


In Which Pete Sucks At Keeping Secrets And Harry Calls McGonagall A Heterophobe

by maybegasoline



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Crossover, F/F, M/M, hogwarts'verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-06
Updated: 2012-07-06
Packaged: 2017-11-09 07:07:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 34,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/452692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maybegasoline/pseuds/maybegasoline
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hogwarts AU. Fifth year. Basically, a lot of stupid and weird things happen at Hogwarts, and there are a lot of blowjobs and make out scenes and maybe Voldy Voldemort comes along and wrecks things, and Gerard wants to start a band but he’s not cool enough. Le shrug. (Oh, and they all have cellphones.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Pete Sucks At Keeping Secrets And Harry Calls McGonagall A Heterophobe

**Author's Note:**

> SECRET CONTEST: ~~(TO MAYBE PROMPT YOU TO READ THIS?)~~
> 
> I have hidden nine FRIENDS references in the body of this fic. Some of them are quite tricky, but if you can locate and name all nine, I will write a ficlet of your choice! Any prompt is okay :) So go for it!

There’s a blur of green and silvery white at the top of one of the Slytherin stands by the Quidditch pitch when the Gryffindor team emerges from their dressing rooms, and their eyes all narrow angrily at the sight of it. (Harry’s heart skips a beat, but that’s a secret.)

“What is that scum doing here?” Angelina growls, and Fred takes a swing with his bat, glaring up at the intruder.

“They’re _spying_ on us now? I can’t believe the Slytherins are sinking this low,” he snarls. “Where are the Bludgers? Someone should mess that creep up real bad,” and they all nod and agree. Well, everybody except for Harry, who secretly is feeling all warm and fuzzy inside.

“Come on,” he says with feigned irritation, trying to get their minds off of the distraction. “They’re assholes for spying on us, but we can’t let the Slytherins get to us. We need to practice for the game, right? We’ll show them what we’ve got,” he smirks and glances up at the Slytherin again, a familiar jab in his stomach hitting as he lays his eyes upon him. He can’t really believe how lucky he is, how perfect everything is, and though it sucks that no one else knows how good the “intruder” makes Harry feel, he doesn’t want the team to be affected. He just wants a good practice.

“Okay,” sighs Angelina and kicks off the ground, the others soon following her up into the air with angry mutters and glares. Harry smiles and kicks off as well, and as the air whirls around him where he flies he feels Draco’s eyes on him, and he does a little loop just because his heart feels so light.

~ ~ ~ ~

When Gerard first got to Hogwarts, he didn't realize what a strange place fate had landed him in. But now after a few years there, he's starting to think that he's got it all figured out.

Hogwarts should have been the epitome of conservatism. According to Gerard, there should have been no breathing space, no way to be accepted, no tolerance whatsoever. When he got the letter saying that he was accepted to the school he should have been afraid, he should have spent hours and hours having long, heartfelt discussions with Mikey about how hard it would be there, how alone he would feel, how the Christianity and heteronormativity and closed-mindedness would suffocate him. But somehow, the Hogwarts presented to him is of an entirely different nature.

It doesn't have anything to do with the school, per se. Hogwarts is still old-fashioned and strict. But apparently everyone who is about the same age as Gerard have all turned out crazy and weird and awesome, so Gerard had in the first couple of years never even noticed how uptight and conservative the school was rumored to be, because the people around him had all been strange and so unlike anything Hogwarts ever wanted their students to be.

But after more than four years of living at the school, Gerard begins to realize that he has just been extremely lucky, because life at this place could have been a _lot_ more difficult if he had just been born a couple of years earlier.

Gerard has a boyfriend, for starters. What the actual fuck. As if _that_ was ever supposed to be accepted on The Academy of Celibacy And Conservative Thinking.

Frank is possibly the most amazing thing that has ever happened to Gerard, but that is a secret because Gerard doesn't want to say it out loud and sound like a chick, because he knows that someone (read: Pete) will give him shit for it. 

(Pete is an asshole who giggles all the time and can't keep secrets and is dating Gerard's brother, which Gerard does not fucking understand because how could anyone in their right mind - yes, Gerard actually deems his brother sane - _ever_ want to be within a thirty feet radius of that guy? Seriously, come on, what is Mikey _thinking_?!)

Anyway, Frank and Gerard have been dating since forever ago, and they're best friends and know everything about each other and it's awesome. And since they're both in the same year in Gryffindor and even live in the same dorm they don't have to sneak around to each other's dorms after curfew at _all_ , unlike almost every other couple in the school. 

Frank is hot and cool and funny and has piercings, and he's totally punk rock and the weird thing is that Gerard never ever feels like a nerd when they're together, despite the fact that Frank is cool and Gerard is just awkward. For some reason they're still on the same page and it rocks. They both like music and they both suck at sports and Gerard likes to draw comics and Frank likes to read them and neither of them care about Astronomy or History of Magic or Divination and Frank is afraid of spiders and Gerard is afraid of... well, most things, and they never ever run out of things to talk about and Gerard wants to keep him forever.

Gerard would like to say that the reason he and Frank are defying the laws of heterosexuality and celibacy and gravity and whatever by being openly gay is that they're just plain awesome and don't care what the teachers and the world say, but that's not true. Really, they had secretly liked each other for a long time before they had the guts to do anything about it, and what got them in gear was the scandalous coming out of two girls in Gryffindor, Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley. The girls made their relationship public last year, and for some reason many eyebrows were raised but no one said anything about it. 

(Frank has a theory that it had something to do with the fact that Hermione was (and still is) professor McGonagall's number one favourite student of all times, and can in her eyes do absolutely nothing wrong. Mikey thinks Dumbledore threatened to kill anyone who showed homophobic tendencies, and Gerard just thinks they didn't get questioned simply because everyone was just enjoying the view, because just because Gerard’s gay doesn’t mean he hasn’t got eyes, and Ginny and Hermione are, let’s face it, really hot.)

Regardless of the reasons behind the teachers' newly founded acceptance, the girls' coming out really set things into motion and spurred several other people to go out on a limb and ask out the people that they had maybe been longing for for ages. Suddenly the dull halls were flooded with gay couples, and at first some teachers muttered and glared, but after a while they grew accustomed to it and learned to simply avert their eyes if anything bothered them.

So long story short, a few months after the girls had come out Frank passed Gerard a note during History of Magic that read ' _wanna make out check yes or no or maybe (which i'll take as a yes) xo_ ' and Gerard sent the note back to him completely unchecked but with a few additional lines written in his tiny, almost impossible to read hand writing; ' _what are you, too cool for texts? and even if binns probably wouldn't care much if we got down to business here, i'm pretty sure hermione would get quite mad if we distracted her from the very interesting lecture. i'll meet you at the common room_ ' and voila, Gerard had a boyfriend and Frank learned the hard way to always text in class instead of passing notes (because really, trying to read Gerard's hand writing is like trying to transcribe ancient runes).

(Whenever someone asks Gerard how they got together, he always tells another story. A much cooler, more masculine one that everyone always sees right through because he really sucks at lying.)

~ ~ ~ ~

"Morning," Mikey smirks when Harry plops down tiredly beside him on the bench by the breakfast table.

"Hey," Harry mumbles, grabbing a piece of toast hungrily. People turn and stare at him all around the Great Hall, but he doesn't notice. Preoccupied with spreading orange marmalade on his toast, he doesn't even hear the frantic whispering floating around him, and blissfully unaware of the topic on everyone's lips, he takes a bite.

"So," Mikey smirks, because he knows what the all silent commotion is about, "I heard that you and a certain Draco Malfoy had some fun outside of Flitwick's classroom yesterday."

Harry spits out a mouthful of orange clumps of gooey bread all over the table in surprise. "What?! Er, no, we didn't! What, where, who, wait, _how_ did you know about _that_?" he splutters out frantically, eyes widened like a deer in the headlights. 

"Dude," says Mikey, "I'm dating _Pete_. I know most things before it's even happened."

Harry makes a small noise of agreement. And then realization hits him. "Wait," he says nervously. "If you heard it from Pete, then that means that everybody else knows too!"

Mikey shrugs and pushes his black-and-white horn-rimmed glasses further up on his nose. "Sorry, man. Consider yourself officially outed."

"Merlin's beard," Harry whines. "Does everyone know?"

"I don't think Ray does," Mikey offers with a shrug. "Or Neville. I don't think anyone's thought to tell them actually..."

"Nobody ever does," Harry agrees sadly and takes a sip of pumpkin juice. "So _that's_ why everybody were pointing and staring and whispering at me in the halls when I walked here!" he realizes, and Mikey laughs. 

"Dude, of course they did. This is, like, the gossip of the _year_!"

Harry shrinks in on himself, sliding down a bit on the bench as if trying to hide from everybody's stares. 

"Anyway," says Mikey, "would you care to tell me what's going on? I mean, aren't you guys supposed to, you know, not like each other at _all_?"

"I know," Harry smiles, and some of the colour returns to his cheeks. "I guess things just didn't turn out that way."

Mikey giggles, because it's so easy to tell that Harry's in love and it's really cute. "So how did it happen?" he asks, leaning his elbow against the table, his head resting in his hand.

"You know, it's been weird," Harry explains with a light blush. "I guess we've kind of had these weird angry obsessions with each other since forever ago, you know? And somehow these obsessions turned into something, well, _more_ , and I thought it was really scary and it made me so angry and stuff, and I didn't want to admit it to myself." 

"I get it," says Mikey. "He's supposed to be the enemy."

"Exactly!" Harry agrees. "But it changed and it made me want to pick a fight more I think, I was so angry and anxious for it to go away. And then when we were in Hogsmeade a couple of months ago we bumped into each other a few times and it sucked because it felt like he was really looking for trouble, so I wanted to get out of the village and back to the school because I wasn't in the mood for fighting. So I went to Honeydukes and met up with Ron there, and then Draco came into the store so I went down to their basement, you know, 'cause I wanted to take the secret path out of there into the school."

Mikey nods.

"But he saw me go down there and followed me down," Harry sighs. "And so we were alone in a dark basement, and we started fighting and calling each other names and pushing each other around and stuff, it was really stupid, and then one thing led to another and we started to kind of wrestle and then before I knew what was going on we were... We were making out."

Harry scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, trying to hide his blush under his fringe. Mikey grins at him, because seriously, cute.

"So, what," he squeals, "you've been secretly dating ever since?"

"Yeah," Harry admits with a tiny smile, "pretty much."

A few seconds of silence pass, and Mikey's grin just grows wider and wider, and Harry can't help but feel a little uncomfortable.

"What?" he asks, a little awkward and unsure.

"Nothing," Mikey grins. "I just can't believe it. Harry Potter, hooking up with a Death Eater," he laughs and Harry hits him in the forehead with a spoon.

"He is _not_ a Death Eater!" he protests angrily. "That is _totally_ an exaggeration!"

"Oh, _really_ ," Mikey smirks with an eyebrow raised in question, rubbing his palm over his forehead to stop it from hurting, totally messing up his hair. "Tell me about him then."

"Well," Harry starts, a soft smile on his lips, "he's not a Death Eater at all, so shut up, he's a really nice guy who bakes awesome brownies. And plus, he gives _great_ head."

"Eww, didn't need to know that," says Mikey, and his attention is quickly diverted from all the gross mental images when his Sidekick beeps in his pocket. He hauls it up and leaves the table in a sudden hurry, because he just got a text from Pete.

Satisfied Harry finishes his breakfast alone, happy that he's got rid of Mikey and his annoying questions.

~ ~ ~ ~

McGonagall is explaining how to properly turn things into stone, complete with complicated diagrams and instructions printed on the blackboard, when Gerard gets a text from Frank.

" _hey sexy, wanna skip nxt lesson n go have sum fun insted? i'll blow u ;) xo_ "

Gerard raises an eyebrow at Frank, who sits on the other side of the classroom watching Gerard carefully with a suggestive grin. Gerard rolls his eyes and quickly types out a response, " _whats nxt lesson then? as awesome as it sounds i srsly cnt miss herbology again, sprout wud kill me_ ", and he hears Frank's phone beep distantly and he almost facepalms. Seriously, the first rule every muggleborn kid learns at Hogwarts: Thou shalt _always_ put phone on silent mode in McGonagall's classroom, or she will get mad and turn it into a bird or crumpet or toad (all of which Gerard has witnessed firsthand), because cell phones are not allowed and she hates them. Frank should know this, he's seen Mikey get busted enough times for it. Gerard sends him another text. " _shut ur phone up iero, mcg will kill my bro. love u_."

He has just sent it (and heard Frank's phone beep again) when his phone vibrates with another message, and this time it's from Mikey. " _YO AHOLE STOP TXTIN IN CLASS. MCG WILL KILL ME._ " 

He turns around to raise an eyebrow at Mikey, and is met with an angry glare behind stupid glasses. Mikey has crossed his arms in tightly front of his chest and is sitting snugly on Pete's lap, who seems to be kind of asleep which is weird because normally McGonagall’s lessons are interesting and adventurous. (But Gerard figures Pete probably didn’t get much sleep last night. All he knows is that Mikey slept in Pete’s dorm and Gerard is pretty sure icky things were going on.) 

Gerard flips his brother the bird and turns around again to face the board and try to look interested in whatever McGonagall is yapping about, and he hears Mikey furiously tap away at his Sidekick and he knows one bitchy message is about to land in his inbox. But it doesn't matter, Gerard thinks smugly, because his phone is on silent mode. 

And as if on cue his phone vibrates, but it's not from Mikey. " _nxt lesson is divination, so u n i r guna skip. n suck echothr of. itll b awsom. n btw my phone cn make as much nois as it wants, k? i dont giv a rats ass bout mway cuz he jst txtd me n cald me n ahole. love u 2_ "

And Gerard sighs and has to kind of love his boyfriend, because even though Frank sometimes is annoying and weird he is still awesome. Gerard leans back in his chair and feels kind of great, and he hears Mikey stop typing and awaits a bitchy text with little anticipation, but then a few rows ahead of him Ray's phone makes a very loud, annoying beeping noise and McGonagall freezes.

Gerard feels a little sorry for Ray, because it really isn't his fault that Mikey likes to take out his anger on him, and he sits back and listens as McGonagall angrily lectures him, and he hears Mikey snicker behind him when she kicks him out of the classroom. Ray rises slowly and shuffles out of the door awkwardly, sighing sadly. 

" _i h8 u_ ", Gerard texts Mikey courtesy of Ray, because seriously, not cool, and he immediately feels a little better.

~ ~ ~ ~

Ron's problem isn't that she's sitting so far away. 

The problem isn't that she's too concentrated on McGonagall's lecture to notice him staring. And it isn't that he's so concentrated on staring at her that he's actually failing Transfiguration. None of it matters. 

Because Ron is perfectly fine like this, watching her chocolate brown hair fall over the desk as she leans her head down to carefully take notes. He doesn't mind spending hours studying how swiftly her pale hand flies over the parchment. All he cares about is how her soft, pink lips purse as she tries to understand the equations McGonagall draws on the blackboard, and all that's on his mind is how the curve of her cheek would fit so perfectly in the palm of his hand. He loves her, loves her _dearly_ , and that isn't the problem either.

The problem is that she's a lesbian.

~ ~ ~ ~

“ _stupid fcking hell wtf y r u so fcking stupid u fcking idiot i h8 u so much_ ”, Ray reads sadly on his phone once he’s out of McGonagall’s classroom, and he doesn’t know why Mikey always sends him so many mean texts in class, and he sighs and quickly types out a response.

 _“:( :( :( sorry?”_

Mikey doesn’t reply, he _never_ does when Ray tries to apologize, and Ray sits down by the door to the classroom and reads through his notes from the lesson, because the worst part about Mikey being a bitch is that Ray always gets sent out. That means he misses the rest of the lesson and it sucks because Ray really cares about his studies and wants to get good grades, and Mikey is totally ruining his chances at getting an Outstanding in Transfiguration on the O.W.L’s this year.

Silently studying for a while until the door opens and his classmates start to flood out, Ray wishes that he didn’t have a phone because that way he wouldn’t get so much shit from either Mikey or McGonagall all the time. Hermione Granger is the first to leave the room, Ron Weasley following her tight in her footsteps. And then out from the classroom come Neville and Seamus and Dean and Harry, and Gerard and Frank and Mikey and Pete, and Ray rises and walks with them to the Northern Tower where Divination is to be held. Mikey laughs and talks to everybody and is generally acting like nothing happened, and he gives Ray a friendly punch on the shoulder and it really is typical.

When Gerard and Frank disappear on the seventh floor Ray wants to yell at them for being irresponsible and skipping class, but he hasn’t got the guts and it’s not like they would listen anyway. But Mikey’s face scrunches up into a grimace and he spits at the ground, and asks Pete if he should hex Gerard from behind because he’s a bitch who goes to do gross things with Frank instead of being at class with the others. Pete snickers and wants to follow them, to get to spread some nasty rumors about them later, and Mikey’s bad mood is suddenly completely gone and he laughs like a hyena.

Ray doesn’t understand why Mikey has mood swings like a pregnant teenage girl, but he doesn’t say anything. He exchanges meaning glances with Neville and that’s that.

~ ~ ~ ~

"This," breathes Gerard in the Gryffindor common room when he’s supposed to be half way through second period, "is _way_ better than Divination."

Frank pulls his mouth off of Gerard's cock with a huge grin and a _shlurp_. "I know, right?" he says. "I have the _best_ ideas," he declares proudly, and then he sucks Gerard's dick in again and Gerard loves him.

"You really kind of do," he moans.

~ ~ ~ ~

Gerard has never seen Lord Voldemort.

He has never met him, never fought him. He's not a cool wizard warrior like Harry is. And it's not like Gerard would even _want_ to meet him or anything, it's just that maybe he has a small, tiny, insignificant obsession with the guy.

The obsession is not like that of a creepy Death Eater, per se. It's more like how a comic book nerd would obsess over, say, the Joker. Gerard is just marveled about the fact that Lord Voldemort is so evil. He's, like, the _ultimate_ super villain! He kills people! He can fly! He looks like a snake! He has no nose! He is scary!

Gerard secretly draws comics about Voldemort all the time, although it's the kind of comics that he would never ever _ever_ show anyone because it'd be embarrassing as hell. He keeps his sketch books hidden safely under his mattress, where no one ever will find them. And he has good reason to do so (according to himself).

In Gerard's comics, Voldemort never wins. Because the golden rule of comic book structure is: For every ultimate super villain, there must be an ultimate superhero ready to take him/her/it down. And in Gerard's comics, this ultimate superhero is always, ahem, Super-Frankie. Oh yeah. And this is why his comics are a secret.

Super-Frankie is strong and tattooed and awesome and ridiculously hot and he has a cape. A red one. Also, he never wears a top and has excellent physique. Super-Frankie is basically everything Frank is, but he can fly and has laser vision. Gerard is pretty sure Frank doesn't have that. Also, Super-Frankie can slay Voldemort with his bare hands. He always comes along right when shit's about to go down, right when Voldemort is about to destroy the world or release a dozen vampires on Hogwarts or kill the helpless little boy who, for some weird reason Gerard doesn’t know, always looks an awful lot like Gerard. Super-Frankie says something cool and superhero-ish, and then he takes the enemy down and saves the world and flies away into the sunset, carrying the little boy who looks like Gerard in his arms. Super-Frankie is awesome.

Gerard would of course never ever _ever_ tell Frank about this. He would die of embarrassment because Frank would _laugh_. It's not like he doesn't want Frank to know how much he loves and adores and worships him, not at all. He has no problem telling Frank just how much he means to him. But to reveal that he's making creepy artwork in which a topless Frank flies and shoots laser beams from his eyes and rescues the world from a frightening man with no sense of smell? Oh _hell_ no.

So Gerard only draws late at night in his bed under his blanket when everyone else is asleep, a whisper of "Lumos" to his wand keeping it bright enough for him to be able to see what he's doing. And when he's done, he pushes the book closed carefully and slides it in underneath his mattress, and with a whisper of "Nox" he turns out the lights and tippy-toes over to Frank's bed, climbing inside with a smile. Frank never wakes up, only shifts closer and fits himself into Gerard's arms in his sleep, and Gerard could never have wished for anything more perfect than him, no matter how many Super-Frankies his weird mind invents.

~ ~ ~ ~

"What happened?" ask Frank and Gerard in unison when Harry and Ron and the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team come stumbling into the common room after their big game, covered in mud and bruises and for some reason, in Harry's case, blood.

" _Malfoy_ happened," Ron spits angrily, and to their surprise, Draco _too_ comes stumbling in after the others, fighting his way through the team and grabbing Harry's hand tightly in his own once he gets to the front of the group.

"Weasley," he says coldly, "it's _Quidditch_. You can't expect me to be a gentleman on the pitch."

"Or anywhere else," Ron mutters and slumps down in a chair by the fire place.

"Okay, come _on_ ," says Gerard, because this is ridiculous, "what the fuck _happened_?"

Draco pulls Harry over to a couch and they sit down, cuddling up against each other without a word. Everyone watch them intently, as Draco gently wipes some of the blood trickling down Harry's forehead away with his finger, and presses a kiss to Harry's cheek. Ron sighs and rolls his eyes.

"We were winning," he almost growls, "and Harry caught sight of the Snitch, so Malfoy did what was obviously _perfectly_ reasonable and threw him off the broomstick. He almost died and his head is still bleeding and that boyfriend creep of his doesn't even care."

There's silence because fucking _what_? And Frank and Gerard and Pete - who hadn't gone to the game either - all stare at Draco in disbelief, and he just ignores them and continues to stroke Harry's side soothingly, pressing soft kisses to his forehead every once in a while.

"Malfoy," says Pete in earnest curiosity, "when you're watching Harry play against Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, are you rooting for him or do you want Gryffindor to lose?"

Draco scoffs. "Of course I want Gryffindor to lose."

Harry twists to the side in the couch quickly, staring at Draco with wide eyes. "What?!"

"Baby," says Draco calmly, putting a pale hand to Harry's cheek, "you can't expect me to cheer for Gryffindor. Sports is sports," he shrugs, and everyone gape at him as Harry first flicks him hard over the head, then snuggles up against him immediately again.

"Sports is _sports_?!" splutters Gerard. "Frankie would _always_ root for me to win, no matter what! It's what boyfriends do!"

"How would you know? You don't play sports,” Pete points out, and Draco grins winningly.

"It doesn't matter!" says Gerard, and Frank snuggles up closer in his arms on the love seat and nods as a way of being passively supportive. "I _could_ play!"

"Yeah, _sure_ ," laughs Pete sarcastically. "You could, but you don't. You don't even come out to _watch_ it."

"Well, neither do you," Gerard counters in a snotty tone, and Pete huffs and crosses his arms grumpily in front of his chest.

"I want Mikey," he declares sadly. "Where is he? He would stick up for me to Gerard."

" _Exactly_!" says Gerard, and he's back on track again. "Because that's what boyfriends are _supposed_ to do!"

Draco rolls his eyes. "Lay off my case, Way. You don’t have to be a fucking bitch to everyone else just because _your_ little plaything is nothing but a bloody pansy," and it’s like all hell breaks loose.

"Oh no, you _didn't_!" shrieks Gerard and it's lucky that Frank is so strong, because he manages to hold Gerard back so he doesn't do any damage to anybody. Because even though Gerard calls himself a pacifist - and is something of a pussy - he can't hold back when someone insults Frank. Which is stupid because Frank is really the kind of guy who can defend himself; he doesn't need Gerard's badly aimed punches or hissy fits of shrieky insults.

"Gerard, calm down," Frank says sternly - almost angrily - though Gerard's not the one he's mad at. "We don't need to sink to that filthy Death Eater's level, we're bigger than that."

("He is _not_ a Death Eater!" Harry protests, but nobody listens.)

Gerard glares at Draco but settles down into Frank's embrace again and Draco rolls his eyes.

"I'm leaving," he declares and twists himself free of Harry's arms to stand up. "I don't like your friends," he tells Harry and leans down to kiss him, and nobody else likes him either. "You're crashing at mine tonight, okay?" he murmurs quietly into Harry's hair (though everyone hears him anyway) before pulling away, and Harry nods.

"Love you," he says when Draco walks away, but to no one's surprise Draco only waves at him, he doesn't even turn back, and they watch him climb out of the hole in the wall behind the Fat Lady without a word.

"I hate that guy," says Ron when he's gone, and Harry makes a sad little noise.

"But I _love_ him," he complains, and no one can understand why in the fuck.

~ ~ ~ ~

"Look, Harry, it's alright. I didn't mind."

Draco's eyes are laughing and Harry wants to die. He flings an arm over his eyes and pretends that he doesn't exist. But he feels Draco's chest vibrate with held in laughter and he just wants to cry, he can't let it go, and he wants them both to just forget.

"I'm sorry, that wasn't, I mean, that has _never_ happened to me before, I'm so sorry, oh my God, I can't _believe_ that just happened, someone kill me now _please_ ," he rambles anxiously with a crimson blush staining his cheeks. 

Draco wraps an arm around him and lets him rest his head against his chest, and Harry doesn't want to open his eyes because he knows that he'll be met with a smirk and he just can't deal with that.

"Seriously, I didn't mind. It was kind of hot actually," Draco says with a wicked smile that Harry can't see, but he can hear in his voice that it's there, and _how_ is this even funny to Draco? _How_ can he be joking about it? Asshole.

"No, it wasn't, it was evil and wicked and awful," Harry says monotonously. He's in anguish and he needs a hug and Draco's being mean.

"You're, like, my own little snake boy," Draco teases, and Harry wants to die again.

"Oh my God, you're not helping at _all_ ,” he complains and his scar is killing him and he hates the wretched thing.

"Maybe you _should_ have been placed in Slytherin after all," Draco jokes, brushing a kiss over Harry's forehead with laughing lips, and Harry makes a protesting noise and sits up abruptly, tugging himself free from Draco's embrace. 

"That's it, I'm going,” he says and pulls back the green heavy velvet drapes around the bed, and then he rises and goes to find his clothes on the floor.

Draco steadies himself on the bed, leaning on one elbow, and he watches with raised eyebrows as Harry struggles to dress. "I thought you were spending the night?"

"Yeah, like I could sleep after something like _this_ ," Harry sneers sarcastically and tugs on his shoes, sitting down on the edge of the bed again to tie them. Draco quickly sits up behind him and wraps his arms around Harry's waist, covering his bare shoulders in warm kisses, and for a moment Harry forgets and wants to stay.

"Well, we wouldn't _have_ to sleep," Draco whispers suggestively with a smirk, and that's it, Harry remembers again. He groans in discomfort and rises quickly, and Draco falls back down on the bed laughing, the evil bastard. He knows _exactly_ which buttons to push and which jokes to make about this, and he thinks it's hilarious. Harry doesn't.

"You," Harry says sternly, pointing angrily at his laughing boyfriend, " _suck_." And then he grabs his sweater from the floor before spinning around swiftly on his heel, leaving the Slytherin dorm in a hurry.

"Oh, but baby, don't be like that!" Draco shouts after him, grinning like a madman. "I'm sure it happens to _loads_ of guys!"

"I _hate_ you!" Harry roars in response from down the hall, leaving Draco naked in his bed howling with laughter.

~ ~ ~ ~

When Gerard's phone vibrates in his pocket, he's having breakfast in the Great Hall. He frowns and confusedly pulls it out of his pocket, because it doesn't really make sense for him to receive a message right now. Frank and Mikey and Pete and Ray are all sitting at the table with him, and they are usually the only ones who text him. He flips it open and his eyes widen in surprise, because the message is from Hermione, of all people.

"Dude," he says and elbows Frank gently in the side to get his attention. "Hermione texted me."

"Whoa," says Frank and leans closer to read what it says.

"Wow, what does she say?" Ron asks excitedly before he can stop himself, and his ears turn a little red when they all stare at him with knowing grins on their faces. Gerard opens the message and skims through it along with Frank, and for every word they read their eyes widen in disbelief.

"Whoa," says Frank again and Pete snatches the phone quickly from Gerard's hands.

"What? I want to see!" he complains loudly before clearing his throat. "' _yo g_ '," he reads aloud, because he is a little bitch, "' _this is ginny (im only usin h's phone cuz i dont have 1.) i want u 2 tell ron he is a FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT AND I HATE HIM AND HE NEEDS TO STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY GIRLFRIEND OR I WILL KILL HIM. (im only sendin this 2 u cuz ron dosnt have a phone either. mum dosnt belive in muggle tech.) k so tell him i know EVERYTHING nd i will hunt him dwn if he tries anythin. xo bye_ '"

There's a moment of silence, and then Pete starts to laugh like a hyena. Mikey stomps on his foot under the table, but it doesn't do any good because Pete doesn't really understand the concept of subtle hints.

Ray gulps down some pumpkin juice and pats Ron sadly on his shoulder. "That sucks, man," he says earnestly, and Gerard offers his chocolate brownie sheepishly to Ron.

“Want some of my breakfast?” he asks, and Ron shakes his head.

“Too depressed to eat,” he says sadly, and that is really saying something about how bad Ron feels because he _never_ turns down food normally.

“You sure?” Gerard says with raised eyebrows, taking a bite of the brownie, and they can all see how Ron slowly breaks down.

“Well,” he says and twists in discomfort on his seat, “I’ll probably eat in, like, five minutes,” and then he snatches the brownie out of Gerard’s hand, “or now,” and he swallows the whole thing down at once with a loud _gulp_.

“So,” says Pete earnestly, “I’m glad you’ve already forgotten how much your life sucks,” and of fucking course Ron has _not_.

"Merlin's pants, seriously, what am I gonna _do_?" he cries in desperation once he’s swallowed his enormous mouthful of chocolate brownie, burying his face in his hands. 

"You should talk to someone," Gerard suggests. "You need a second opinion on this. From someone who isn't one of us, someone who doesn't know the whole story," and he only says that because he doesn't want to hear about it himself.

"Yeah," Pete agrees excitedly, waving a breadstick in front of himself like a sword. "You can't let your little sister boss you around like this, you need to put her in her place!" 

"Bloody hell," Ron groans tiredly, voice breaking a little at the end. Frank pats him awkwardly on the back, swallowing down a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

"It's over, man, you're done," he says with a shrug and earns glares from everyone else around the table (except for Ron who still is hiding in his hands), because they're all trying to be supportive here and Frank is not helping. Gerard pushes a slice of toast harshly in Frank's mouth to shut him up.

"Dude," says Pete gleefully, "don't listen to him. It's _way_ obvious that she likes you, man."

Everyone stops and stares at him (and Frank chokes and spits out the toast in surprise. Bread crumbles fly all over the table and everyone, and Lavender Brown shoots him a menacing glare from a few seats down the table, shaking crumbles from her hair), because fucking _what_? They are supposed to be _supportive_. That does not involve _lying_ to make Ron feel better.

"Excuse me," says Gerard slowly, because Pete seriously is retarded, "but _how_ exactly is it obvious that she likes him? She's a _lesbian_."

"Sure," Pete smiles, "but who is she dating?"

He pauses, looking expectantly at all of them, as if he's just asked something of importance, and Gerard wants to flick him over the head.

"My sister?" Ron says tiredly after a few seconds, because apparently Pete won't continue without some encouragement.

"Exactly!" Pete exclaims loudly, clapping his hands together in joy. "She's dating the female version of _you_! If _that_ ain't a sign, I don't know what is."

"Yeah, I agree!" says Gerard sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "It's so _obvious_ , isn't it? The first sign that a girl likes a guy is always that she's dating another girl, of course. Why didn't we think of that? I mean, 'cause it's not like she could be _gay_ or anything."

"I _know_!" squeals Pete, and everybody lapse into silence because _seriously_. 

"You need to stop it with your weird Chandler Bing sarcasm," Frank tells Gerard after a few moments of awkward silence, because somebody seriously needs to change the subject.

"Who's Chandler Bing?" Ron asks before Gerard can defend himself, and everyone facepalms. 

"No one," they all sigh in unison, and Pete hums a happy tune, completely unaware of everything.

"You should go for it, man," he encourages through a mouthful of porridge, giving Ron two thumbs up, and they all stop and stare in awed silence again.

"He's a lost cause, people," Frank announces and everyone agrees.

"You suck," Ron complains, and Pete shrugs because he is aware that he sucks. He sucks Mikey's dick. It's not like it's a secret.

"Then what about a threesome? You can't go wrong with a threesome, dude."

There's silence. And then Ron slaps Pete hard over the cheek.

"Eww, disgusting!" yells Ron and "Ouch, what the fuck?" yelps Pete and "Dude, you're messed up!" and "Pete, go die in a hole somewhere!" and "Oh my god, I can't believe I'm dating this kid," and "Seriously!" shouts Gerard and Frank and Mikey and Ray. (Okay, so Ray doesn't shout. More like gasps.)

" _What_?" says Pete and rubs his aching cheek. "What did I do?!"

Ron shoots him a menacing glare and leaves the table in demonstration, and Pete just sits there and looks lost. Everyone shake their heads in disbelief, rising from their seats and walking out of the Great Hall in unison. They leave Pete alone at the table, wishing they had saved themselves from all sorts of embarrassment by not getting to know him in the first place.

~ ~ ~ ~

Hermione does not understand why she for some reason is the person everybody goes to when their boyfriends have been stupid. There is seriously no gay boy on this entire school that she hasn't consoled at least once.

There was the time when Frank thought he had seen Gerard make out with some blonde dude from Ravenclaw, and he cried and cried and cried against Hermione's shoulder and he wouldn't shut up about it, like, at _all_ and she had to awkwardly try to pat his head with one hand while trying to write an essay about the importance of positive thinking whilst using protection charms with the other. (It later turned out that the person Frank thought was Gerard had actually been the blonde guy's girlfriend from Hufflepuff. Frank didn't even _thank_ Hermione for the support.)

Then there was the time when Mikey was sad about Pete not telling him that he was pretty, or some fucking shit. Hermione doesn't even remember what that was about; she just remembers sitting for three fucking hours listening to Mikey's whines about insecurity and body issues and not caring the least bit whatsoever. She gave half-hearted advice while calculating Jupiter's exact position in relation to Mars, and quickly penned it down on her map of the sky when Mikey turned away to reach into his bag for a tissue.

Then of course there was the time when Pete was upset about him and Mikey not being the - in his opinion - cutest couple and the only ones of their kind at Hogwarts anymore. For some fucking reason he felt threatened by Ryan Ross and Brendon Urie, a couple of dudes from Hufflepuff who, in Hermione's eyes, are basically Mikey and Pete, only younger, tinier and way more annoying (which is really saying something). The way Hermione sees it, Ryan tries to come off as quiet, brooding and deep, and he wears scarves all the time and nobody besides himself ever takes him seriously because _hello_ , he's in Hufflepuff so everybody knows he's fucking stupid. And she thinks Brendon is, well, pretty much Pete, just gigglier. They are, to put it simply, motherfucking CHILDREN. But for some reason Pete was just _blind_ to the fact that he and Mikey were always going to be _way_ cooler than them, and he sulked for _days_ after he found out that the two were together. And no matter how many times Hermione tried to tell him that the only thing a "relationship" - if you can even call it that - could possibly consist of when you're twelve years old and in _Hufflepuff_ is holding hands, giggling and eating cookies, Pete just wouldn't listen.

Hermione would like everyone to just leave her the fuck alone, because she really doesn't like being constantly disrupted by a gay boy in tears when she's trying to do something more important, like, I don't know, maybe study. Study HARD. It's like, is she seriously the _only_ one here who realizes that the O.W.L's are coming up in a few months? The _O.W.L's_ , for Merlin's sake. They all need to _study_. But still everyone comes rushing to her whenever something has gone wrong, and it's beginning to wear her out.

This morning is no different. Hermione hears someone walking towards her table in the library where she sits taking notes from _New Theory of Numerology_ , and she sighs in defeat. 

"What did he do this time?" she asks tiredly, expecting whoever it is to launch into a long rant that she doesn't really have to listen to, as long as she nods and says "yeah" at the right places. She doesn't bother looking up from her book to see who wants advice (because she really fucking doesn't care who it is), and Harry slumps down heavily in a chair beside her.

"Nothing," he mutters grumpily, and she knows this is going to be a tough one. _Great_. 

"Okay," she says calmly. She gives up the idea of being able to study through this, because it seems like she's going to actually have to _talk_ , so she closes the book, puts her quill down and takes a deep breath. "Then what's your problem?"

Harry twists uncomfortably in his chair. "It's complicated," he offers and she rolls her eyes.

"Look, if you wanna talk, then talk. If not, please piss off. I'm kind of busy here," she says dismissively and opens the book again, flipping through the pages quickly to find where she left off. 

Harry looks down at his hands, a rosy blush slowly forming on his cheeks. He bites his lip nervously, trying to gather up the confidence to speak. The silent rasping of Hermione's quill against the parchment and the occasional fluttering noise of a page being turned speak to Harry only of her complete indifference and nonchalance to his dilemmas, and he understands well that she won't say anything if he doesn't.

"So, me and Draco," he begins tentatively, because he can't stand the silence. She doesn't look up.

"I had sex with Draco for the first time," he tries again after a short pause to see if _that_ will spark her attention, honestly a bit annoyed with her, but to his dismay she only hums and scans through her notes, making small corrections here and there.

"Good for you," she says distantly and flips through the pages of her book until she finds the right section. With a pleased little noise she begins to read again, and Harry can't _believe_ her. 

"When I had sex with Draco last night, I had a little problem," he admits uncertainly, hoping that _that_ 'll make her want to listen to him. 

"Don't worry, it happens to every guy," she assures him dismissively with a wave of her quill and he wants to hit her because she clearly doesn't care. But when she doesn't say anything else, only continues to scan the pages of her Arithmancy book with unbiased interest, he takes a deep breath and feels all the blood in his body rush to his face.

"When I had sex with Draco I saw Voldemort kill someone and I think I got off on it!" he cries in despair, his words ringing in the grand library hall much louder than he expected, and he cowers into his seat and tries to hide from the world because wow, it sounds a lot worse being said out loud than it did in his head.

But _finally_ he has perked Hermione's interest.

She raises an eyebrow at him, closing her book instantly with a bang. "Do tell."

"Well," he starts, wringing his hands together nervously in his lap. "Draco and I... Well, we did it last night, and -"

"Was it good?" she interrupts him abruptly, and he nearly falls off the chair in surprise. Hermione usually doesn't engage in these sorts of conversations, and even the smallest questions will catch him off guard.

"Well, yeah," he says hesitantly, "but that wasn't why -"

"Who topped?" she asks with a lewd smirk, wiggling her eyebrows, and _seriously_ , this is _not_ why he came to her. He wants girl advice, not an interrogation.

"Well, _I_ did," he admits dismissively, irritated by her stupid questions, "but seriously, I did _not_ come here to spill every dirty little detail about my love life!"

She raises an eyebrow, not impressed by his outburst. "If you didn't want to gossip, then why did you come to a girl to talk?" she asks and averts her attention back to her studies, scurrying through the book again to find the page where she last left off.

“I _didn’t_ come to a girl to talk, I came to _you_ ,” he counters angrily, and she raises an eyebrow but doesn’t look up from her book, and he realizes that him snapping at her probably isn’t helping.

Harry sighs, clearly annoyed because she is _unbelievable_ , but he swallows his pride and decides to let her call the shots. "Okay," he says. "I give in. What do you want to know?"

She grins at him, slamming the book closed again. "Everything. All the dirty details."

He rolls his eyes. "Sure. Whatever." 

Taking a deep breath, he tries to calm down, but as he closes his eyes momentarily to clear his head, he is suddenly brought back to the night before. He remembers everything clearly, as if it's happening right now. He recalls the smooth softness of Draco's skin, and in awe he wants to live in the memory and place a trembling kiss on his temple. The Draco he remembers lets out a soft moan and the scene changes, Harry trembles in anticipation as he lines his throbbing cock up against Draco's hole, and as he takes a deep breath and pushes in Draco groans and buries his nails in Harry's back, and he doesn't mind, he's too nervous, afraid to do something wrong. The scene changes again, they're lying relaxed on top of each other, chests heaving up and down in the struggle to catch breath. Draco whispers "I love you" faintly and Harry wants nothing to change ever, until horror hits him as he realizes what he has done. 

His eyes fly open widely in remembrance of why he came here in the first place, and he shakes his head frantically as if attempting to get rid of the memories. Hermione watches him expectantly and he decides to just do it.

"So, we were in his dorm last night," he begins, and she perks up immediately as he starts talking. "And I don't know why we did it, I think maybe it felt like a natural next step, I mean 'cause obviously we've done... well, _other_ stuff before, and that was really kind of the only thing left, so we just did it, I guess." He shrugs awkwardly, and her grin grows wider.

"So, was it magical? Was it perfect? Did you cry?" and he hits her playfully with her book and they giggle.

"Shut up!" he protests with a smile, "... and I _did_ actually cry." 

She gapes at him in disbelief, and he wants to hit her again because he can tell that she's trying hard not to laugh. 

"I cried _afterwards_!" he exclaims in his defense, and she cracks up despite her best efforts to keep a straight face. "What the fuck, stop laughing at me!" he continues in a much higher pitched voice than normally, because this is _embarrassing_. "Do you want to hear the story or not?" he asks grumpily, crossing his arms before his chest, and she calms down instantly.

"I'm sorry, please go on," she giggles, and motions at him to continue. 

"Anyway, it was amazing," he says quietly, because though they might be best friends this is still embarrassing. "He was... I don't know, he was just gorgeous, and it was so overwhelming, y'know?"

She nods dreamily in agreement with a soft smile on her face as if remembering something, and _eww_ , that Harry did _not_ need to know (and he makes a mental note to tell Ron to have The Talk with Ginny, because better late than never). He shudders and tries to get rid of the (very unsettling) mental images in his head, and continues in an attempt to steer his thoughts away from Hermione and Ginny. 

"And everything was just so good, and I was getting closer and closer and I could tell he was too, and we were just looking in each other's eyes and it was so real, like we were _connecting_ or something." 

He shakes his head slowly, looking down at his hands again. Hermione pokes him softly in the leg, prodding him on to continue his story, and he sighs in defeat. 

"And then I shut my eyes," he says slowly, blinking his eyes shut in solemn remembrance of what happened, "and suddenly I wasn't with him anymore."

She blinks at him slowly, wide eyed and confused. "What do you mean?"

"I was with Voldemort," he explains quietly, feeling tears building up in his eyes. "I was the snake."

Hermione scrambles hurriedly through her bag for a tissue, and hands one over to him almost apologetically. "Explain," she encourages softly. "I don't understand." 

Harry dabs the tissue lightly against his eyes and takes a shaky breath, feeling his hands shake with humiliation. Closing his eyes and trying to compose himself, it all comes flooding back to him, everything at once, and he wants to block it out but he can't.

He finds himself back in the dark room with the frightened man lying shaking on the floor, and he feels Voldemort's cold, long fingers slowly stroke him over his musky green leathery skin. Moonlight seeps through a blurry window, the glass cracked and dirty and Harry wonders what kind of a place this is. 

"You have gravely disappointed me, Rowle," Harry hears a faint echo of a voice whisper, and the man trembling on the floor cowers back into a corner. "You failed me, and that is unforgivable," the voice continues, and Harry can't tell where it comes from. He recognizes it as Voldemort's, but he can't see his enemy's lips moving.

"I'm sorry, master, it was a mistake, please spare me," Rowle cries as he writhes in agony, avoiding meeting his master's red, vicious eyes. 

Harry lets out a venomous hiss and angrily bares his fangs at the frightened man lying in the corner. And then it all gets too much for him, and he tears himself away from the scene because he doesn't want to live through it again.

"Voldemort and the snake were with someone," he says shakily once he's back to reality, grabbing Hermione's hand for comfort. "Rowle. It was dark and I didn't see much, but Voldemort was mad at the guy, I don't know why," he chokes out, avoiding her eyes carefully. "And last night the scene was, like, switching, back and forth between first Draco and me, then Voldemort and the snake and I couldn't focus, it was as if I was at two places at the same time because I was aware of everything I did in both places, I didn't leave Draco entirely, I was still there and I felt him."

Hermione nods, and Harry wants her to say something, wants her to explain and solve everything for him because he feels lost. The happenings back at Voldemort's hide out won't rest in his mind, and he presses a palm tightly against his aching scar as the rest of his memories float to the surface.

He recalls the foreign whisper of attack, a soft and almost gentle promise of dinner. He remembers the feel of soft flesh giving way to his razor sharp teeth, and with a shudder he shakes his head to get rid of the horrid images of his murder, the taste of the traitor's blood and Draco's warm skin.

"And then," he whispers before clearing his throat and continuing with more volume and confidence, "Voldemort commanded the snake - me - to kill the man they were with." He pauses, recollects himself, waits for her reaction, "And I did."

Her grip on his hand tightens and he's thankful that she doesn't say anything. "I attacked him, I bit him. In the neck. And back in the dorm with Draco, I bit him too. In the neck. At the same time as the snake bit Rowle. And right then, I cummed."

"Came," Hermione says quickly, as if the urge to correct everyone and everything is a reflex she's unable to control, and Harry glares at her. "Sorry," she apologizes with a blush as she remembers the severity of the situation. "What happened then?"

"Nothing. Voldemort and everything disappeared, and it was just me and Draco again. I don't think I was aware of what I had done then, I was just trying to catch my breath and so was he, because he'd gotten off too when I bit him but I didn't notice that... And then after a few seconds everything just came flooding back to me and I just sat up again, frightened. I slipped out of him and away from him but I didn't notice, and he tried to ask me what was wrong but I didn't hear him. I was so fucking scared. And I started crying and I think I told him what I'd seen, or at least I thought about it out loud, and he just started joking about it, he didn't understand, so I left because I was afraid that I'd hurt him or something, or that it'd happen again. I'm still so scared, I don't know what to do."

"Of course you're scared," Hermione says calmly, _too_ calmly, as if none of this alarms her, as if it's normal, as if he shouldn't worry. Harry thinks it's bullshit. "It is all very logical though of course."

Harry stares at her in disbelief.

"You already know that your brain opens up to Voldemort's intrusions sometimes when you're weak or have let your guard down, like when you're asleep," she explains with a voice irritatingly composed and reasonable. 

Harry gives a little nod, jaw clenched and teeth grinding together in something resembling rage mixed with an ounce of fear, and he doesn't understand what sleep has to do with him being a perverted murder machine.

"And that is most likely what happened last night as well," she concludes, and Harry shakes his head.

"I wasn't asleep, Hermione," he protests, and she rolls her eyes.

"No, but..." she cuts herself off, looking down onto her textbook as if trying to find the answers in it, and when she looks back up to meet his eyes she is wearing a crooked smile that Harry doesn't quite know what to make of. 

"Honey," she says, "Voldemort gets access to your head when you're relaxed and have let your guard down. And when you're having an orgasm..." She stops again, squeezing his hand softly and biting down on her bottom lip as if to keep from laughing, "... Well, when you're having an orgasm you're baring your entire soul to your partner. You're letting go of everything to just exist in that moment and in that feeling. That makes it logical for Voldemort to be able to get inside your head right then, because you're not focusing on anything but how great you're feeling. Every little piece of your mind is focused on Draco, and nothing is protecting you from intrusion right in that moment." 

She smiles reassuringly, but Harry doesn't see it. He stares blankly ahead of himself in horror. 

"But I _liked_ it," he stutters out, eyes wide open like a deer in the headlights. "It got me off, oh my God, I am a horrible person!" he cries out and buries his head in his hands, and Hermione shifts closer on her chair to gently stroke him over his back.

"Sweetheart," she says softly, "you mixed the realities together. Think about it. Think about what you felt. What got you over the edge, was it killing Rowle or was it being in love with Draco?"

Harry closes his eyes again and tries to block out all the scary images, tries to just reach the feelings he experienced. And what hits him is fright as he sinks his teeth into Rowle's neck, fright as he hears the bones snap. But on the _other_ side of everything he feels love and passion and perfection as he sinks his teeth deep into Draco's pure white skin, bliss as he hears a beautiful moan rise from his boyfriend's chest, warmth as he relaxes down on top of him and for but a few perfect moments doesn't know of anything but Draco, himself and the rhythmical beatings of their hearts resting against each other.

He opens his eyes, smiling despite himself into his hands, "Draco."

"See?" Hermione grins. "You're gonna be alright, you're not a murdering snake no matter how real that felt."

Harry's head snaps up and he looks at her in terror as he remembers another one of his concerns. "But I bit him," he whispers, and Hermione shrugs.

"You mixed up the realities," she repeats herself calmly. "It wasn't your fault."

"But what if I hurt him?" Harry mutters, and she lets out a short laugh.

"What, did he complain? I can't imagine that Draco would be one to object to something like _that_ ," she smirks and Harry blushes.

"Shut up," he protests, though he knows that the last of his dignity is beyond saving already. "He _did_ say he liked it, and he called me his 'snake boy'," he admits, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, "but it was a joke. I think. It wasn't funny."

Hermione's smirk says everything, and he's just thankful she doesn't voice whatever thoughts she's having right now.

"But I can't do it again, can I?" he asks slowly after a second, as realization dawns upon him. "If Voldemort can get to me when I'm having sex, then I can't do it. I could hurt someone."

Hermione's eyes widen and she shrugs. "That's your choice. I can't help you with that. Although I _can_ advise you to talk to Draco about it before you make any rash decisions." She scans him carefully, pinning him down with her stern eyes, and he shakes his head and rises from his seat in a sudden hurry.

"Thanks," he says distantly, his mind already too concentrated on contemplating what to do, "I'll talk to you later," and then he leaves the library quickly, deep in thought. 

Hermione waves after him and sighs, opening her book again. "Boys are stupid," she mutters and picks up her quill from the table, dipping the tip carefully in ink before she puts it to the parchment, calmly resuming her work.

~ ~ ~ ~

"Malfoy!" Ron shouts, running after a group of Slytherins in the hallway on their way to the Great Hall for a late breakfast. "Hey Malfoy, wait up!"

The group halts on Draco's command, and he raises a questioning eyebrow at Ron as he catches up on them, breathless and flushed. 

"What?" Draco spits coldly. 

"I need your help with something," Ron explains, panting a little from having to chase after them. Draco doesn't say anything, only stares at him in utter resentment, and Ron continues. "I need to talk to someone who can be objective about things," he says with a shrug, and the people behind Draco snort with laughter.

"I don't think I'm interested in helping you," Draco says and turns on his heel to leave, but Ron quickly reaches out and grabs his sleeve, tugging him back.

"Look, Malfoy, I know you don't like me and, well, I don't like you either, but I could really use your advice here," Ron pleads, and Draco sighs in defeat because seriously, this guy is a _leech_. 

"Okay, but I'm only doing this 'cause you're friends with Harry, I want that to be very clear," he says sternly, and Ron eagerly nods. 

"Go on," Draco tells the other Slytherins and waves them away dismissively, "I'll catch up." Then as they leave he turns back to Ron and crosses his arms in front of his chest, clearly annoyed. "Alright, Weasley. What's up?"

"Well, you know when you and Harry got together, how it was weird because you were supposed to hate each other and shit, and I was the only one who knew about you?" Ron asks tentatively, and Draco raises an eyebrow at him to continue. "And there were rules and stuff, and it wasn't really allowed?"

"Screw the rules," Draco scoffs. "If you want something, go and get it."

"Yeah... Rules can be broken," Ron agrees, biting his nails nervously. "But that first time, when you were in Hogsmeade and you made out in Honeydukes' basement, that was different."

Draco taps his foot impatiently against the granite floor, looking briefly down the hallway to see how far his friends have gotten. 

"Different from what?" he asks a little puzzled, even though he doesn't really care.

"You were in the same place," says Ron thoughtfully and Draco stares at him in wonder.

"Uh, yes?" he says uncertainly, because he seriously doesn't understand where Ron is going with this. "When me and Harry were in Hogsmeade, we were both in Hogsmeade."

"You both wanted it," Ron now _whines_ , and Draco does not fucking understand. "It was different, and this isn't gonna work 'cause we both don't want it," Ron seems to come to some kind of conclusion, and Draco is relieved because maybe that means that he'll be allowed to leave.

"Sure," he offers with only a hint of a question mark at the end of the word, one that Ron doesn't seem to detect.

"Thanks, man," Ron smiles awkwardly, and Draco shrugs.

"Any time, Weasley," he says nonchalantly, although he really fucking means NEVER EVER EVER AGAIN.

"Just do me a favor," Ron asks just as they both turn to leave, and Draco nods warily, wondering what else he could possibly want. "This conversation, it's between you and me, okay?"

Draco nods, wide eyed and confused. "If _that_ ," he says quietly to himself as they turn their backs on each other and walk away, because he honestly doesn't feel like this conversation even involved him at all. 

~ ~ ~ ~

Ginny storms up to Pete in the corridor outside the Great Hall and gives him the mother of all bitch slaps. It hurts and he almost falls to the floor, because who would have thought such force could rest inside such a tiny little creature?

"You're disgusting!" she yells and he rubs his aching cheek in confusion.

"What did I _do_?" he asks, and her eyes narrow. 

"Ron told me about the _threesome_ ," she growls. "You're gross and I hope you die." Then she turns on her heel and walks away, chin held up high.

~ ~ ~ ~ 

"But _pleeeeease_ , pretty pretty please?" pleads Brendon, clinging to Ryan tightly with a well practiced puppy-dog-eyes look on his face. Older, smarter, less loud Hufflepuffs all over the common room roll their eyes at him, because Brendon is the most obnoxious _ever_.

"No," says Ryan tiredly, "I will _not_ let you draw on me with a quill." 

He tries to turn his back on Brendon but only manages to kind of twist slightly in his boyfriend's tight grip, and he sighs and dips his quill in the pot of ink again, wrecking his head to come up with some deep, dark poem.

"But I wanna!" Brendon whines, tugging at Ryan's scarf to get his attention again. "I'll draw you a pretty flower! On your nose!"

"No," Ryan sighs, "it'll tear my skin and then the ink will get in the wounds and I'll get the ugliest tattoo _ever_!" He glares at Brendon, and then turns back to his parchment in a hurry to write down a few lines. 

" _And my skin shall be soiled with your curiosity / And forever will it run in the rain / Like the flight of your bumblebee / We will forever rest in the shame_ ,” he cites loudly as he pens it, and Brendon watches him with hearts in his eyes.

"Oh," he swoons, "you're so talented! Read me more!" And he crowds in closer on Ryan on the couch and clings even tighter to him, and with a blush he even dares to kiss his cheek and they, inevitably, start to giggle. 

"Get lost!" shouts someone angrily at them from some corner, and it only makes them giggle harder.

" _Never have they seen_ ", cites Ryan again after a while, once they've calmed down, " _such amazement through their eyes / And with eternal continuity / This anchor is holding me down_ ," and his hand almost flies over the parchment, and Brendon is in awe. 

" _I'll cast a spell for you / To count days away in the mountains / With grace like that of a unicorn / The wind will speak to us_ ," Ryan continues, and Brendon doesn't understand a word of what he's saying, he never does, but he thinks it's awesome nonetheless.

"I want cookies," he says and nuzzles his head into the crook of Ryan's neck, and all across the common room people are glaring and muttering and rolling their eyes, because Brendon is the only one who likes Ryan's poems, and Ryan is the only one who likes Brendon.

~ ~ ~ ~

The third time Pete gets slapped over the cheek that day, it's by Mikey and has nothing to do with the totallygrossohmygodincest threesome. But that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.

~ ~ ~ ~

It's night and everyone are asleep, or they at least _should_ be. The Gryffindor common room is quiet and deserted, and Ron is more nervous than he's ever been in his life. He hears someone come down the stairs from the girls' dorms, and he quickly straightens in his chair, trying to look confident and secure as he watches her approach.

"Harry said you wanted to talk to me," Hermione says, tilting her head questioningly to the side.

"Yeah," Ron mumbles, gesturing towards a large plush chair in front of them. "Sit down."

She raises an eyebrow but doesn't say anything, and Ron feels his palms start to sweat as she slides into the chair gracefully and drops her bag to the floor. The seconds pass and neither of them say anything, and it's beginning to get unbearable. An eternity of silence has passed when Ron finally decides to stop being a pussy and just do it.

"I," he pauses and takes a deep breath, "am in love with you."

And cue awkward silence.

"I'm sorry," Hermione laughs a little nervously, "I don't understand."

Ron scratches the back of his head awkwardly, trying not to look at her. "I'm in love with you," he says again, more securely this time, as if he's actually got some confidence about this.

She lets out another nervous little laugh, and twists around in her chair and sweeps her eyes quickly around the room, as if she's searching for something. When she turns back to Ron, she looks unsure and a little confused, and her smile is wary. 

"Who are you talking to?" she asks nervously through a smile that Ron can see is forced, and he hates himself and the world.

"You," he sighs. "There's no one behind you, I'm talking to _you_."

She leans back in her chair further from him in disbelief, raising her eyebrows at him and crossing her arms in front of her chest. "Ronald, I am a _lesbian_."

"I know," he groans tiredly, "I can't help it."

Her mouth tightens into a thin line very similar to that of professor McGonagall when she's angry, and Ron just wants to shrivel up and die. "I'm dating your _sister_."

"I _know_ , I'm sorry!" Ron says dejectedly, throwing his hands up in the air, and she just sits there quiet, glaring angrily at him. The seconds of silence pass once again, and he's starting to think that it would be better if she yelled at him or something, because he seriously can't take the silence.

"Well," she mutters after a while, "this is _your_ problem. I'm not even going to bother." And then she grabs her bag from the floor and flings it over her shoulder, standing up and walking away up the stairs to her dorm without another word. Ron sits quietly in his chair, watching her leave, and he wishes he hadn't gotten himself into this mess.

~ ~ ~ ~

"Shit, is it him, does he see me?" Harry says anxiously, diving behind a statue to hide. His friends roll their eyes at him and try to look unsuspicious as a group of Slytherins walk past, Draco in the lead (who, by the way, doesn't even so much as _glance_ in their direction. Draco never says hello to them if Harry isn't with them, and even _then_ , he's not very polite).

"This is insane," Hermione mutters once they're out of hearing distance.

"Is he gone?" Harry asks and looks around nervously, jumping out from behind the statue once the coast is clear.

"Dude," says Gerard, "you have _got_ to stop hiding from him."

“I am not hiding!” Harry protests, and Gerard and Hermione roll their eyes because yes, he has in fact been hiding all week.

“Look,” says Gerard, “okay, so you had one of your weird Voldy-Visions while fucking Malfoy, but big deal!”, and the look on Harry’s face is priceless.

"You _told_ him?!" Harry splutters angrily at Hermione, who raises an eyebrow coldly in response.

"No," Gerard explains, "I heard it from Pete."

"You told _Pete_?!" Harry explodes, and Hermione rolls her eyes again.

"No," she says in an annoyed tone, "he must have overheard my discussion with Ginny about it."

"You told _Ginny_?! What, does _everybody_ know?!" Harry cries, and his friends both shrug.

"I don't think Ray does," Gerard offers.

"Or Neville," Hermione adds.

"But yeah, other than them, pretty much the entire school," Gerard concludes and it's impressive, really, how little they both are affected by Harry's menacing glares.

"I hate you all," Harry declares loudly, because he doesn't mean just Hermione and Gerard, he means _everybody_. 

"The feeling is mutual," Hermione says sarcastically, "but you should really only hate _Pete_ , he's the one who spread it, and I'm late for Ancient Runes. See you!", and she rushes off down the corridor.

"Do you think it's safe to leave now?" Harry asks, looking around suspiciously.

"Dude," says Gerard tiredly, "you have _got_ to stop hiding from him."

"And _you_ have got to stop repeating yourself and being annoying," Harry bites back and stomps away.

"You are _such_ a drama queen," Gerard mutters with a sigh, and follows him down to the dungeons for their lesson in Magic Potions.

~ ~ ~ ~

"The time is up, everybody," Snape calls, clapping his hands together to get his students' attention. "I would like everyone to place a full bottle of potion on my desk, a tag with your name attached to it. Class dismissed."

Harry sighs and looks into the contents of his cauldron and sees a simmering Shrinking Solution, or rather what is _supposed_ to be a Shrinking Solution but is actually something more like cement, and he knows that it's not nearly good enough. He tries to shove a few spoonfuls of the disgusting goo into his bottle, but finds it nearly impossible. 

Everywhere around him people are already leaving, placing their bottles on Snape's desk, and to Harry's dismay most of them are filled with a green liquid, and _not_ a brown weird mud-like substance that for all Harry knows could possibly kill someone.

He gives up his efforts and rises from his seat, gathering his things into his bag and walking up to the front of the classroom where Snape already awaits him with a knowing smirk on his face.

"Let me see that," the professor leers evilly and snatches the bottle from Harry's hands, inspecting his potion through the thick glass. "Well," he chuckles out of pure spite, "I'm certainly looking forward to grading _that_."

A short, slightly spiteful laugh echoes from a corner in what Harry thought was an empty classroom, and he turns swiftly around to see who it was. And leaning against the doorframe is Draco, ducking his head slightly down with an unsure smile on his lips and his golden white bangs hanging adorably into his eyes, and Harry almost melts for a second before he remembers that he's not really supposed to be around his boyfriend, especially if said boyfriend hasn't grown up and still finds it appropriate to laugh when Snape is mean to Harry. 

"What are you doing?" he asks warily, because this isn't really a conversation he'd like Snape to witness, and Draco shrugs.

"I miss you," he says simply and takes a step into the room. "Are you avoiding me or something? You've been acting weird ever since we had se -"

"You know what, we really should go," Harry quickly cuts him off and grabs him by the arm, dragging him outside of the classroom, because Snape does not need to hear any of this. 

"I'm sorry, I'm not avoiding you," he explains with a sigh as they climb up the stairs from the dungeons, "I've just been really busy."

"Oh, really?" Draco says in disbelief, eyebrows raised coldly. "You haven't looked me in the eye for a week. You hide whenever you see me. Something's up, Harry."

Damn it, Harry _knew_ Draco would see through his lies. Sighing, he lets go of Draco's arm and stops walking. 

"No, really, I'm fine," he lies, and he tries to sound assuring but doesn't really know if it's working. "And I'm sorry, but I'm late for Charms, I'll talk to you later, okay?" he says hurriedly, turning to run away, but Draco calls out for him before he has gotten too far.

"Hey!" he protests. "What, is that all you're gonna say? You're just gonna go?", and Harry turns back in a heartbeat and presses a quick but firm kiss to his pale cheek.

"Love you," he mumbles before rushing away down the corridor, and Draco stands as if frozen and watches him leave, feeling insecure and a little crushed.

~ ~ ~ ~

"You know," shouts Gerard over the loud music, "this kind of makes me want to start a band."

Pete starts to laugh immediately, and Frank punches him in the stomach courtesy of Gerard. Mikey rolls his eyes behind his glasses, shaking his brown, straightened, hair-sprayed fringe out of his face nonchalantly. He doesn't like this dorm at the best of times, and especially not when it's filled with stupid friends and loud music.

"What?" protests Gerard and turns down the volume on the stereo. "Why are you laughing?"

Pete scoffs. "You're nowhere _near_ cool enough to be in a band, dude."

" _What_?!" Gerard squeaks out, spluttering and stuttering out words and syllables and angry noises. Frank pecks him on the cheek and glares at Pete.

"You're wrong, Gerard would be awesome," he declares and Mikey rolls his eyes again. 

"Whatever, shorty-pants," Pete shrugs with a smirk, and Frank gapes in disbelief.

"Michael Way, control your woman!" he orders, and Pete gasps in shock.

"Frankie, don't say that, that's sexist!" says Gerard. Everybody roll their eyes.

"Low blow, Iero," says Mikey, just because he is the boyfriend and he is supposed to defend Pete, no matter if he wants to or not. (Having to defend Pete even when he doesn't want to - and he rarely wants to - is actually the reason that he has perfected the noble art of poker-facing.) "Low fucking blow."

"I hate all of you," Gerard sulks. "You don't get to be in my band. Except Frankie. Even though he forgets to be a feminist sometimes."

Frank squeals and attacks Gerard with kisses. Mikey rolls his eyes again and kind of hates all his friends.

“I want to do an experiment!” Pete suddenly speaks up, and they all stare at him.

“You wanna _what_ , Wentz?” Frank asks in disbelief.

“A scientific, experimental experiment complete with results and methods and shit and stuff. You know?” 

Pete looks happy and excited and no one understands what the fuck he’s talking about.

“Whatever pleases you, honey,” says Mikey dismissively, because the best approach is usually to just favor him.

“Good!” Pete beams at him. “So I have this theory, that Mikey and Gerard kiss alike,” and what the fuck? Everyone stop and stare at him. 

“Wait, what?” says Frank.

“You know,” Pete explains, “’cause they’re brothers and stuff! I have this theory that if I closed my eyes, I wouldn’t be able to tell which of them I’m kissing. Right?”, and they all agree he has officially lost his mind.

“You are insane,” Gerard tells him, but that doesn’t discourage Pete. Oh hell no.

“Maybe,” he agrees, “but I’m doing it for science.” And then he crawls over the floor to Gerard and is suddenly all up in his space, and Gerard feels uncomfortable because he doesn’t know if Pete is actually going to do it, you know, because it’s not like he would want to make out with Pete Wentz, not for all the money in the world.

“Pete,” he says warningly, “if you get any closer I’ll kill –“, and Pete knots a hand in his messy hair and yanks his head forward, shutting Gerard up by sticking his tongue in his mouth.

“Hey!” says Frank angrily, because no one is allowed to kiss Gerard but him, but Pete doesn’t care.

“Hmmpffflllgrrlllff,” Gerard tries to protest, but Pete only hums happily and mashes his mouth into Gerard’s without a care in the world, and they all stare at them in shock with wide eyes. Gerard thrashes around wildly, trying to pry himself free of Pete’s grip, but unfortunately Pete is a lot stronger than him and even with Frank’s help he can’t get away from being, like, totally raped.

Thankfully Mikey soon snaps out of his coma and flicks Pete hard over the head. 

“PETER WENTZ!” he shouts, and Pete almost bites Gerard’s tongue off in surprise. “Let go of my brother this _instant_ or I swear to god, you are in some _big_ trouble, mister!!”, and then he flicks Pete over the head again who cringes in pain and lets go of Gerard sadly.

“Sorry,” he mutters, and Gerard tumbles into Frank’s arms with tears in his eyes.

“Oh my god,” he complains with a whine, “I’m officially scarred for life! Mikey,” he turns to his brother, “you need to learn to keep your boytoy on a leash!”, and Frank pats his head comfortingly and presses a kiss to Gerard’s hair, glaring angrily at Pete.

“ _Never_ ,” he says sharply, “do that _ever_ again. You hear me?”

“No need,” Pete shrugs and shuffles into Mikey’s tight embrace. “I came up with a conclusion.”

They all glare at him because this was just too _much_ , and they don’t really want to know what conclusion that is.

“And the conclusion is,” he takes a deep breath, “that Gerard really doesn’t kiss like Mikey at all, and I like kissing Mikey much better!”

They all roll their eyes and Mikey can’t believe that he’s dating this idiot. “Good,” he says, because that’s what he’s supposed to say even though he’d like to tell Pete that he can shove his experiments up his ass.

~ ~ ~ ~

When the lessons for the day are all over, the Gryffindors retreat to their common room to study (which is a fancy way of saying “hanging out”). Gerard and Frank crash into a couch, curling up against each other, and Mikey plops down on the floor in front of them with a book and the ambitious intention to actually get some of his homework done. 

"I can't wait until we get up to the dorm tonight," Gerard smirks against Frank's collarbone. 

"Yeah," Frank agrees, slipping a hand in under the hem of Gerard's shirt. "Let's just get in my bed, under the covers and... do whatever we feel like doing," he suggests seductively, wiggling his eyebrows. 

"Guys, it's a _blanket_ , not a cloak of invisibility," Mikey complains. " _Some_ people want to get some sleep at night, you know, instead of having to see you guys be disgusting all night," he says and throws his copy of _The Standard Book of Spells, Level 5_ at them both to get them to stop being gross and making out (but he misses, thankfully, since he isn't wearing his glasses. He never wears them when he studies, which Gerard has always assumed is the reason he never scores very well on tests). 

The book crashes into the wall behind them on the other side of the room and pages fly everywhere. From a couch in a corner snuggled up with Ginny, Hermione raises an eyebrow coldly at Mikey, clearly as a silent (and very effective) scolding for his recklessness, and with a quick snap of her wand and a mumble of "Reparo" she tiredly fixes the book again. Mikey smiles apologetically and says "Accio," and the book comes flying back to him. 

"If you have a problem sleeping in the same room as us," Frank smirks and slides his hand even further up Gerard's shirt, "then I'm sure you can figure out somewhere else to crash tonight."

"Or _all_ nights," Gerard adds. "Not that we care too much about your poor eyes or - believe me, your much needed - beauty sleep, but if you didn't live in the same dorm as us we could have even _more_ sex."

Mikey rolls his eyes angrily and grabs his book and leaves.

~ ~ ~ ~

It's kind of late at night and Gerard is in the Gryffindor common room, and Frank isn't. Which is kind of weird.

"I wonder where my boyfriend is," Gerard says and checks his phone for the forty millionth time, and there are _still_ no new messages in his inbox. Ray shrugs and his hair bobs all over the place, and Harry shrinks in on himself next to them both on the couch.

"I wish _my_ boyfriend was here," he sighs sadly, and Gerard wants to smack him over the head or something because he's being ridiculous and annoying, he wants to beat some sense into him. Except Gerard is a pacifist and also kind of a pussy, so he doesn't.

"Harry," he says sternly instead, "you're miserable. You need sex. And Draco. Preferably at the same time."

"You don't understand," Harry whines, and Ray pats his arm sadly as a way of comfort.

"You're going crazy without him though," Gerard says and Ray nods.

"I hurt him last time, I can't put him at that risk again," Harry mumbles quietly, and Gerard rolls his eyes.

"Dude," he says, "it's not that big a deal. Look, I bit Frank too once, and it was fine! We both just found out we had a teeny-tiny bit of a vampire kink, and that was all! It worked out for the best!"

Ray bites his nails nervously and looks around in the common room with a blush, shifting awkwardly in his seat on the couch but he doesn't say anything. He doesn't like hearing these kinds of things, it makes him uncomfortable.

"Okay," says Harry sadly, "that might have worked out for _you_ , but me and Draco are screwed."

"No, you're not!" Gerard exclaims excitedly. "Look, biting is awesome, okay? You can use it anywhere, anytime, hard or soft, and you know, one of the best things about sex is when the guy is, like, softly nipping his way down your chest and then when he finally gets to your cock you're, like, completely red and sore all over already and you're covered in spit and stuff and bite marks and it becomes hickies, which are beautiful works of art according to myself, if they're done correctly that is -"

Gerard cuts himself off of his ramble to take a huge breath and nods to emphasize his words, and he looks stone serious and Ray gets a little scared. He doesn't want to hear any of this. 

Harry doesn't really either, but for different reasons.

"Er," he says, looking a little nervous and uncomfortable, "that sounds awesome, actually," and he blushes and it's cute, and Gerard glances briefly down at Harry's crotch to see if... And yes, boy scouts could camp under there.

"It _is_!" Gerard insists, and he's kind of really proud of getting Harry kind of hard just by telling him about his (totally awesome) sex life. "And the hickies are awesome, because they'll just _remind_ you of what he did, and say you would, like, press down on one the next day and I swear to God, you'd _shiver_ because you'd remember the feel of his mouth all over your body and how amazing it felt and how much you want it again."

Harry shivers. 

"I need Draco," he says blankly, because he is hard and Gerard is making him miserable and he misses his boytoy and he hasn't gotten off in a week, and Ray lets out a held in breath. He's relieved that Harry has finally realized that, because now maybe he won't have to hear so much about gross biting things.

"Then go get him!" Gerard encourages and Ray nods eagerly. His hair bobs wildly all over the place.

"I will," says Harry with sudden confidence, and he stands up straight. "I'm gonna go get my man!" And then he runs off, through the hole in the wall out of the common room, and Gerard and Ray watch him leave.

"I want my boyfriend," Gerard sighs when he's gone. 

Ray makes a tiny noise in agreement.

"I'm gonna head upstairs," says Gerard and stands up, brushing invisible dust off of his robes. "If you see Frankie, tell him I want him. Night, Toro."

"Night," says Ray, and Gerard leaves for the dorm.

~ ~ ~ ~

When Ginny is tucking herself in her bed, there's a knock on the door. The dorm is empty because the girl she shares with (yes, she was lucky enough to get a dorm for two people only) has sneaked off to her boyfriend, and Ginny eyes the door suspiciously, because _who_ could possibly be wanting to talk to her in the middle of the night?

She kicks her blanket away and jumps off of the bed, tip-toeing quietly over to the door. She closes a hand slowly around the doorknob and the door rattles as somebody bangs on it again, and she just wants to hide under her bed until whoever it is goes away.

"Ginny, come _on_!" an impatient voice calls from the other side of the door, and Ginny lets out a held in breath. She should have known. Snorting at her own stupidity, she twists the knob and the door swings open.

There stands Hermione in her nightgown with a smile on her face, a pillow under her arm and a flower in her hand. She reaches it out and Ginny takes it.

"Can I stay with you tonight?" Hermione asks, and Ginny nods and grabs her hand, pulling her inside.

Hermione drops the pillow to Ginny's bed, and slingers her arms softly around her neck.

"Hi," whispers Ginny with a smile, dropping the flower to the ground to slide her hands over to Hermione's hips. 

"Hi," smiles Hermione too, and they both shift closer simultaneously to crash their lips together.

It's soft and gentle and sweet, and Ginny takes a small step closer because she wants to feel everything, and it's amazing. They move their lips against each other's slowly and softly, like a caress more than like a kiss. When they part they do it hesitantly, lingering closely to each other still because they don't want to stop. They lean their foreheads together and just breathe.

"You're amazing," says Ginny, because it's one of those moments.

"So are you," says Hermione, and Ginny sees the secret question in her dark, heavy eyes, one never before asked. She lifts her hand to Hermione's chest and starts to twirl a hazel brown curl of hair slowly between her fingers, and the answer is yes, for the first time. 

Their nightgowns soon fall to the floor, and they take one look at each other and know that there's no turning back. Hermione watches Ginny's fair skin heat up in a blush, and she smiles and presses a soft kiss to the freckles under her eye. 

They lead each other to the bed, and sink down together in pink rosebud sheets and supple pillows. Their long hair spread out over the sheets like fans, and they hold on tightly to each other and nothing is wrong. 

As moonlight casts a slowly dying shadow over the two of them, hands and tongues explore bodies and secrets. They move in perfect harmony, and their moans get swallowed by the night sky as they toss and turn in a dance to the rhythm of their motions.

And after a while, when waters have been tested and boundaries have been broken down, Hermione takes a deep breath, faces her fears, and kisses her way slowly down Ginny's body. She pays extra attention to the places where she can hear that her mouth makes Ginny's breath hitch, and she smiles because though this is scary she doesn't want to stop.

She finally reaches her destination, and though she isn't confident she doesn't hesitate. She knows what to do, what to look for, and she just does it, without thinking twice. She licks and kisses her way around, a bit insecurely at first, but then as she finds her clit and presses her tongue flatly down it's like Ginny comes to life before her eyes. There's a spark of fire visibly running through her entire body, and a moan escapes her lips for the first time, and Hermione smirks and does it again.

"Oh god," says Ginny breathily, "shit, _wow_ ," and that's it, this is officially Hermione's new favourite pastime. She nudges a finger slowly into her girlfriend and feels her widen wetly around her, and amazed she slides another finger in beside the first one and slowly thrusts them in and out in sync with her tongue moving over Ginny.

"God, _yes_ ," Ginny chants, throwing her head back in pleasure. And Hermione doesn't stop even to catch a breath, she lets Ginny shiver and shake beneath her and it's alright because she can _taste_ how it makes Ginny feel.

And when it's about to be over, when Hermione reaches in deep inside and finds a spot neither of them knew even existed, Ginny grabs onto Hermione's hair hard. She pushes her head forward, closer, and trembles wildly on the bed in ecstasy as Hermione licks hard and deliberately over her. And that is enough, and with a desperate moan of Hermione's name Ginny reaches the edge, and Hermione licks her lips when she's done, savors the taste.

Slowly kissing her way back up Ginny's body again, Hermione is all smiles. "That was fun," she laughs softly, and Ginny grins up at her, breathless. She's beautiful, her wild red hair cast all over the pillows and a rosy red blush on her face, and Hermione loves her, loves that she can make Ginny look like this. "You're beautiful," she adds softly, tracing a finger over her girlfriend's sharp jaw line, and Ginny's grin grows wider.

"Get over here," she demands with a smile and drags Hermione down on top of her, and their laughs drown out in a kiss. 

" _I_ want to try that now!" Ginny whispers excitedly against Hermione's swollen lips, and Hermione smiles and knows absolutely no reason to object. The moon is still up and they've got all night.

~ ~ ~ ~

Gerard sighs sadly when he climbs the last few steps of the stairs up to his dorm, because he is all alone and he misses his boyfriend. He doesn't want to sleep just yet, but with Harry off at Draco's and Mikey crashing in Pete's dorm and Ray still downstairs and Ron off sulking over Hermione somewhere and Frankie just _gone_ , he just wants to crawl up in a hole and die because he really doesn't want to be alone.

He pushes the door to the dorm open and to his surprise a light is lit over in a corner, and on his bed a small figure with a black hood over its head sits, back to the door and crouched over, and Gerard stops at the door way and doesn't know what to do. It could be a Dementor or something for all he knows. (Or maybe it couldn't. He has never seen one, so he wouldn't know.)

"Uh," he says nervously, and the figure twists around quickly. 

"Gerard," Frank beams at him from the bed, clutching one of Gerard's sketch books in his hands, and _yay_ that it's Frank, and _fuck_ that it's the sketch book.

"Uh," he says again, because oh my god Frank has found his sketch books. His super-mega-ultra-humiliating sketch books that contains topless Frankies saving the world in red tights. Oh my fucking God.

"Gerard," Frank beams again, and beckons him over excitedly. "Oh my God, Gerard, these are amazing, I can't _believe_ you!"

And something snaps in Gerard's brain and _what_? Why isn't Frank laughing? He stumbles over to the bed and Frank pulls him down next to him, scootching closer and spreading the sketch book out over their laps.

"These are awesome," he says softly, and points at little Super-Frankie slaying Voldemort. "Is that really me?"

Gerard blushes, and Frank presses a quick kiss to his cheek. "Yes," says Gerard immediately, "it's you and I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, shit, I'll throw these away, I promise!"

"No!" Frank protests and Gerard doesn't understand. "You can't, these are amazing! I can't believe how talented you are, and I think they're just adorable!" Frank grabs Gerard's head in his hands and presses butterfly kisses all over his face, and Gerard thinks maybe Frank finding out isn't such a disaster after all.

"You can have them, if you want," he offers with an unsure smile, and Frank gapes at him.

"Oh my God, you're not serious, are you?" he says in disbelief, the hugest grin _ever_ on his face, and Gerard nods. 

"Oh my God!" Frank exclaims happily and throws himself at Gerard, tipping them both over on the bed. "I love you!" And he attacks Gerard with kisses, and Gerard doesn't remember what he was so worried about in the first place.

"What do you say I give you a proper thank you?" Frank whispers suggestively against Gerard's neck, nipping softly at the skin beneath his ear, and the sketch book falls unnoticed to the floor as they scramble through each other's clothes.

"Sounds good," Gerard agrees, and Frank bites down where his neck meets his shoulder, and when he sucks hard down on that spot Gerard can already feel the blood rushing, and he moans and knows he's going to be painted black and blue tomorrow.

"I thought you'd laugh at me," Gerard mumbles through a moan and pulls Frank's t-shirt over his head, throwing it to the floor.

"Never," says Frank, and his smile is so bright it's almost blinding. His hair sticks out all over the place and Gerard thinks he's never looked this beautiful before, and he wants to tell him that but can't, because Frank leans down to kiss him again and Gerard figures it can wait.

Frank kisses his way quickly down Gerard's chest, nipping and biting as he goes, and he undoes Gerard's jeans button with his _teeth_ and pulls his pants down excitedly. Gerard's cock bounces free of the resisting fabric, all red and wet at the tip, and Frank licks his lips and says "Thank you" giddily before sucking him in without a second thought.

Gerard grabs onto Frank's dark hair hard, pushing his head forwards roughly in time with his thrusts. Frank only hums around him and lets him fuck his mouth, because he likes it almost as much as Gerard does and he knows that though Gerard might be rough sometimes, he's never _harsh_ and Frank trusts him.

And it doesn't take long before Gerard loses it, and Frank feels the tremble in his boyfriend's thighs and pulls off just fast enough to get the first pulse in his throat and the rest on his tongue. He sucks hard and swallows it all down greedily as Gerard tears and claws at his hair, twisting and turning in pleasure underneath him.

When Frank finally pulls off of him, he kisses his way up to his mouth again, and Gerard kisses him eagerly and tries to catch his breath. "You're welcome," he grins shakily, and Frank beams at him, hair all askew and gorgeous.

"My turn!" he exclaims happily and flips them over, and Gerard laughs and leans down to kiss him deeply.

"Fabulous," he grins once they've pulled apart, and as he licks his way down Frank's body he glances up at the window briefly, and everything is _perfect_. The moon is still up and they've got all night.

~ ~ ~ ~ 

Harry makes his way slowly down to the dungeons, through dark corridors only illuminated by his wand, because it's late and no one is allowed to be out in the halls so all the torches are put out. Thinking back, he realizes he probably should have gone back for his invisibility cloak and the Marauder's Map, because Filch or that horrid cat of his could be lurking somewhere in the shadows, but he's come too far now and turning back would be too risky.

He climbs down the last few stairs in the dungeon and finally reaches the blank stone wall behind which he knows the Slytherin common room is hidden; Draco has taken him there many times. He whispers "Nox" to his wand and the light goes out, and he takes a deep breath to calm his raging nerves. Praying that no one is going to be awake in there, he gulps and says "Pure blood", and the wall opens up and he can go inside.

The common room is luckily deserted, and he takes a look around in the pale green glow around the room. He spots the Giant Squid through one of the windows, and he doesn’t understand how the Slytherins can sleep in this place, because seriously, it’s creepy that the squid is spying on them all the time. 

(There’s a reason he usually doesn’t like to have sex in Draco’s dorm.)

He tries not to look at the gross thing with a million tentacles, and he turns around to where he knows Draco's dorm is, and with a feigned confidence he doesn't really feel at all he marches quickly to the door and knocks. There's complete silence, and all he can hear is his own shaky breathing, and he laughs quietly at how nervous he is. His hands are trembling with anticipation and he can't concentrate, he can't think, he doesn't know what to do. 

The door suddenly swings open, and both Harry and Draco take a step back in surprise. 

"Wow," says Draco, scratching his neck awkwardly. His hair is a mess and he's got pillow marks on his cheek and he's not wearing a shirt, and his grey eyes are tired and Harry nearly _dies_ because he looks adorable and he has really missed Draco.

"I'm sorry," says Harry simply, because there's not much else to say. Draco crosses his arms in front of his chest and leans against the doorframe, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry I've been avoiding you," Harry continues apologetically, "but I was scared that I'd hurt you. Voldemort scares me."

Draco's tight expression softens, and Harry reaches out a hand for him to take. 

"You won't hurt me," says Draco and twines their fingers together. "You don't need to be scared." And he smiles and takes Harry inside, and it's like everything finally clicks into place when he pulls him into a tight embrace, they're back where they were supposed to be. Harry clings to him tight, burying his face in Draco's neck, and he feels at home.

"I love you," says Harry, and Draco slides a warm hand down to the small of his back reassuringly.

"Love you too," he whispers and Harry _has_ to kiss him, so he does. And it's perfect and wonderful because they haven't seen each other in over a _week_ , and Harry never wants to leave, never wants to be anywhere else but right here, and his dick kind of comes to life again as he gets reminded of what Gerard said and why he came here.

"I owe you an apology," Harry whispers once they break apart, "a _real_ one."

"What do you have in mind, Potter?" Draco smirks lewdly, because he knows _exactly_ what Harry came here for, and Harry takes a small step closer and licks his lips slowly.

"Get in the bed," he says huskily, and Draco nods, smirk still in place, and gets under the covers immediately because it's been a week. And Harry wastes no time, taking his shirt off and throwing it to the floor before crawling in next to Draco, lips meeting in an instant and arms wrapping tightly around necks and waists.

"I'm sorry," whispers Harry against Draco's lips, and he pulls away slightly to move his lips swiftly over Draco's neck, collarbone, chest, licking and kissing and biting softly as he goes, and Draco trembles underneath his touch and it _works_! And okay, Gerard is a genius and Harry totally owes him. 

As Harry slides down lower and lower, completely hidden by the duvet, Draco clenches his hand tightly into a fist and bites down on it to keep from moaning out loud, because he doesn't want to wake up Crabbe or Goyle or Zabini or anyone else, because they don't really like Harry, simply put. Harry kisses his way down Draco's happy trail and Draco has to bite down harder on his hand, because he's never really been the quiet type and Harry is awesome.

"I'm sorry," Harry whispers again from under the covers and pulls down Draco's pajama pants, licking his lips hungrily at the sight of Draco's hard cock, and Draco has already forgiven him. 

Harry flicks his tongue over the tip slowly, licking off salty pre-cum leaking from the slit, but teasingly pulls away as soon as Draco's hand grabs onto his hair. He waits for a second and takes a deep breath, and when he feels Draco is getting impatient he sucks the head in and twists his tongue around it, and he can hear Draco's breathing getting heavier. Draco's hand tightens in his hair when Harry relaxes his throat and swallows all of him down, ignoring his gag reflex and letting Draco fuck his mouth the way he likes it. 

He pulls back a few inches after a while and licks the tip again, trying to imagine Draco’s cock as a snake because pleasing Draco is _too_ fucking easy. And when he says “ _I’m sorry_ ” against Draco’s skin again his voice has a distant hiss to it, and with the moan that follows from Draco’s chest he smirks and knows that he hit it spot on. Draco has always had a thing for Parseltongue.

And it's awesome and amazing and _finally_ , and Draco totally blames the fact that he hasn't seen Harry in over a _week_ when he feels his legs tremble and his cock twitch, and he twists his hand in Harry's hair tightly and tries not to make any noises when he comes. And Harry swallows his load down greedily, doesn't mind at all that Draco was so fast, and when he's done he slides up the bed again and his head pops out of the covers, the widest grin _ever_ on his face and hair sticking out in all directions.

"I'm sorry," he says happily and Draco laughs and slides a hand up his warm back.

"I forgive you," he grins breathily, and he feels Harry's hard-on pressing against his thigh and he can't _wait_. "You wanna try fucking me again?" he asks in a husky, suggestive tone through a smile, and he feels Harry shiver. "You know, without Voldemort this time?"

"Fuck yeah," Harry agrees, "but we've gotta be quiet, I don't wanna wake up any of those 'friends' of yours." 

"No need to worry about them," Draco smirks and Harry raises an eyebrow questioningly. 

"Muffliato," Draco whispers because magic is _awesome_ , and Harry beams and leans down to kiss him. Draco smiles against his lips and _loves_ him, loves that he's here. 

When they break apart, he can't stop looking at Harry; he's suddenly struck by how gorgeous he looks in the bleak moonlight glow. He rests a hand on his boyfriend's rosy cheek and smiles, casting a glance towards the window where the stars and the moon watch them. It's perfect and Draco couldn't be happier that Harry's here. The moon is still up and they've got all night.

~ ~ ~ ~

Ray sits quietly at a desk in the Gryffindor common room, studying for a test in History of Magic. He doesn't mind at all that all his friends are off with their boyfriends, having fun; they scare him, quite honestly, and he doesn't want to so much as _think_ about what they might be getting up to. It's scary and it's gross and Ray would rather pretend it doesn't exist at all.

He flips through _A History of Magic_ by Bathilda Bagshot slowly, and the only sounds in the entire room is the soft prickling of the fire, and his quill rasping against the parchment as he determinately takes notes of the eighteenth century's goblin rebellions. He raises his head at the sound of feet behind him, and Neville climbs down the stairs from the dorms with a queasy look on his face. They nod at each other in silence, and Neville sits down at the other end of the room and picks up a book and starts studying. 

Ray doesn’t mind the company. Completely at peace with his late-night-studying, he glances briefly up at the window and smiles. He's in no rush to learn; the moon is still up and he's got all night.

~ ~ ~ ~

"Morning," say Ginny and Hermione cheerily when they get to the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, joining their friends for breakfast. Their hands are tightly intertwined and there's something new about the way they look at each other, the way they walk, the way they seem to own the world and everything in it. Gerard glances at Ron and Mikey, knowing that they can sense the change as well, and he doesn't know what to make of it.

"M'rng," says Frank through a mouthful of scrambled eggs, oblivious as usual, and Mikey raises a questioning eyebrow at the two girls.

"What's up with you two?" he asks suspiciously, and Hermione smirks at him, burying her nose in Ginny's hair as they sit down at the table, very close to each other, almost in each other's laps. Which is not normal. "You look like you're up to something."

"Really?" Ginny says with a smirk very similar to Hermione's, and the girls look at each other briefly, laughing eyes clearly sharing a secret, and Gerard wants to know what the fuck is going _on_. 

"It's just such a beautiful day, is all," Hermione says dismissively with laughter in her voice, and Ginny brushes a hand through her girlfriend's hair and smiles as she bumps her nose into Hermione's cheek.

"Pass the butter," Pete demands, and Gerard and Mikey share a tired glance as Ray silently gives him the butter. Their boyfriends really are the densest of the dense.

"Seriously," says Gerard, "what's going _on_?"

"I told you, nothing!" says Hermione and reaches for the toast. "Do you want some toast, baby?" she asks Ginny sweetly, and the redhead shakes her head and rests a hand on her girlfriend's arm.

"No, thank you," she giggles, "I think I'd rather go with cereal today." 

And Hermione beams and pecks her lips, reaching for a bowl. "Perfect!" she exclaims, and Ginny looks delighted. "Ron, sweetie, could you pass me the milk?"

And Ron, of course, starts blushing and stammering and his ears get all red because Hermione called him _sweetie_ oh my fucking _GOD_ , and Gerard rolls his eyes because he's pathetic and obvious. But Hermione and Ginny don't seem to notice, too enthralled with each other's hair and hands and smiles to really see anything else, and everyone wonders the fuck _why_. Ron looks more than a little jealous, and his hands shake as he hands Hermione the milk, which she takes without a word and pours a generous amount into the bowl.

"Cornflakes?" she asks and Frank passes them to her, and Ginny watches as she pours them into the milk, twirling a strand of scarlet hair through her fingers with that secretive smile still in place. 

"Thanks, honey," Ginny smiles when Hermione gives her the bowl of cereal, and she grabs a spoon from the table and takes a bite. And Gerard nearly chokes on his toast when he sees Ginny slowly, deliberately moving the spoon into her mouth, watching Hermione intently from under dark lashes, and with what looks like great satisfaction she closes her eyes and slowly pulls the spoon out again, licking it carefully before it has left her mouth completely. Hermione watches with a crooked grin and heavy eyes, and now even _Frank_ realizes something is completely off.

"Dude," he says, "what is _up_ with you two today?"

"Nothing," Hermione smirks smugly, but Gerard can see that she's sliding her hand up Ginny's thigh under the table.

"Yeah," says Ginny with a shudder that doesn't go by unnoticed (and Hermione's smirk grows wider), "we've just had a good night's sleep." And the girls look at each other, giggling secretively, and oh my God, Gerard knows what's up.

"You had _sex_!" he exclaims with wide eyes, and Ron spits out his eggs in surprise.

"You had _what_?!” he splutters out loudly, eggs flying all over the place, and Ginny raises a cold eyebrow at him.

"You're gross," she tells him and Frank and Pete high five the girls. 

"Way to go!" says Frank, and he really means it because it's about damn time.

The girls smirk and lean into each other, Hermione resting a hand in Ginny's fiery hair, and Ron's eyes are about to pop out of their sockets. 

"Bloody hell, I can't _believe_ you!" he says accusingly, glaring at them both angrily. "You're not allowed! I'm telling mum!"

"You're just jealous, Ronald," Ginny sneers, and Hermione grabs her hand tightly in her own to kind of mark her territory, and Ron’s ears start to flame up in red.

“And _you_!” he shrieks in a high-pitched voice, turning to Hermione. “You’re a _prefect_! You’re supposed to be _responsible_!”

"Stop being so immature, Ron," she says coldly. "You need to get over yourself." 

And _whoa_ , low blow. For _real_. Ron just stares at her blankly, wide eyed and mouth gaping open, and everyone watch them intently, waiting for what could possibly turn out to be the world's most incredible cat fight - but nothing happens. And after several minutes of silence someone seriously needs to do something, so Frank speaks up.

"So, was it any good?" he asks, wiggling his eyebrows, and everybody snap out of it. Ginny giggles and rests her forehead against Hermione's shoulder, fingers playing idly with her girlfriend's hair.

"It was," she smirks and Hermione nods with a soft giggle, and soon everybody are gossiping and throwing around innuendos and laughing and sharing experiences with each other, and no one notices Ron when he silently leaves the table to go mope somewhere.

"God, it's a shame you're all boys, if you'd been girls you should really try this one thing..." says Hermione excitedly and launches into a vivid description of, well, _something_ , and Ray twists uncomfortably in his seat, because he'd rather not talk about this. He turns around on the bench to face Neville instead, who thankfully is looking as unsure and alarmed as Ray feels, and he's grateful that at least _someone_ here is sane.

"So, did you study for the test in History of Magic?" he asks quietly and Neville nods, just as happy to get something else to talk about as Ray, and thank God Ray can escape from the scary things the others constantly talk about as Neville starts to list the names of all the leaders of the goblin rebellions. He's never been this thankful that Neville exists before.

~ ~ ~ ~

Harry stumbles into McGonagall's classroom kind of fashionably late, and after getting lectured by the professor he crashes breathlessly into a seat next to Hermione who raises an eyebrow first at his lateness and then, as she takes a closer look, at the hickies and bite marks all over his neck. He blushes and mouths "Later" at her, and she shrugs and continues to take notes. And only then does _he_ see the similar marks on _her_ neck, and what the _fuck_?

When McGonagall stops talking a while later and lets them practice turning books into mice, he turns to Hermione. "What happened to you? Where did you get those?" he asks, pointing at her neck. She shakes her head in irritation and continues with her intricate spell-casting, and Frank pokes his head in between them from behind. 

"She had sex with Ginny last night," he says conspiratorially with a grin and Harry's eyes widen. 

"Nice!" he says, and Hermione narrows her eyes angrily. 

"I'm trying to study here, and it wouldn't hurt you two to give it a shot either, you know!" she exclaims in a snotty tone, clearly annoyed. "And,” she hesitates after a moment of silence, her desire to gossip clearly winning over her dedication to her studies, “I can tell from your appearance and the fact that you weren't at breakfast, _and_ were late to class, that you've been with Draco. How did it go?"

Harry shoots her a crooked smile, because though she tries to seem uninterested, she clearly wants to know everything. "It was awesome," he says and she smirks at him. "But what do I hear about you and Ginny? Tell me!"

Gerard sticks his head out from behind in between them as well, and grins. "She and Ginny had hot, steamy girlsex last night in their dorm and they've been bragging about it all morning."

" _What_?!" says Hermione, a little too loud, and everyone all over the classroom turn and stare. "We have not been _bragging_!"

"Oh, come _on_ ," Gerard smirks, "you've been strutting your stuff since you woke up, both of you."

"Have not!"

"You should have seen them at breakfast," Frank grins at Harry. "They were all over each other."

"It was kind of weird, really," says Mikey from the desk next to them.

"Shush, mr Way!" says McGonagall sternly, rapping her wand impatiently at Mikey's desk. "I will _not_ have you disrupting my lesson again! Five points from Gryffindor!"

Frank and Gerard grin as Mikey's face falls, it's always fun to see Mikey get lectured by McGonagall. Which he gets a lot.

"But -", says Mikey angrily, but McGonagall cuts him off.

"No buts, mr Way, you simply need to learn to concentrate. Back to work!"

And Mikey slouches down in his seat grumpily, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Pete sighs and lets Mikey rest his head against his shoulder, and everyone goes back to business.

"It's kind of weird," says Harry to Hermione once the familiar spell-chanting-noise rises again in the classroom, "that boys aren't allowed in the girls' dorms, 'cause it's not like it's stopping anyone from having sex."

Hermione hums thoughtfully. "I guess it _would_ have been a useful rule if people had been straight."

"Yeah," Harry agrees, "but you can count all the straight people in Gryffindor on one hand."

"True," Frank says, joining the conversation because he's given up with the mice, Transfiguration isn't really his best subject. "And the only virgins left on the school are, like, everyone in years one to four."

"Yeah," Hermione agrees with a laugh.

"And Ray," Frank adds.

"And Neville," Harry says, and they all hum in agreement, pondering what Ray and Neville's lives must be like, always left out of everything and never in on the action. They snap out of it when Hermione finally succeeds with turning her book into a mouse.

"Yay!" she says, clapping her hands together in joy, and McGonagall beams at her.

"Brilliant, miss Granger!"

Harry clears his throat. "Professor?"

McGonagall peers at him over the rim of her sharp glasses. "Yes, mr Potter?"

"Why aren't boys allowed in the girls' dormitory? It's not really fair that the staircase up to their dorms turns into a _slide_ anytime someone with a dick tries to go up there." 

And McGonagall freezes and everyone gasps, because no one in their right mind would ever use such language while speaking to a professor. With stern eyes McGonagall strides slowly over to Harry's desk, and Hermione kicks him hard under the table, and the message couldn't have been clearer.

"I'm sorry, mr Potter," McGonagall says sternly, "I must have misunderstood."

"No, ma'am," Harry says, shaking his head. "It's not fair. It doesn't keep anyone from having sex," (and there are collective gasps from the entire class) "if that's what the rule's for, because you can honestly count all the straight people in Gryffindor on one hand, professor, and everyone are seriously hooking up."

McGonagall's mouth drops and it's clear she doesn't know what to do with him. And everyone just looks at him like he's crazy, because _seriously_ , who in their right mind would ever speak to McGonagall about things like this?

"Potter," she says, trying in vain to sound composed, "I don't like your tone."

"But," Harry continues innocently, and the rest of the class can't _believe_ that he can't shut up, "it's not _fair_! Why are gay people allowed to have sex but not straight people? Honestly, professor, I think that's a bit heterophobic."

Whoa. Everyone has to stop and do a double take because fucking _what did he say_? McGonagall's mouth tightens into a thin line and her eyes narrow angrily, and this is not good. Hermione kicks Harry again but he ignores her, too busy staring McGonagall down.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, mr Potter," she says sharply and everyone glares at Harry.

"Professor," says Gerard, wanting to help Harry out a little bit, "if you're straight you can just go have sex in the boys' dorms. Girls are allowed in there, you know, professor?"

"Yeah!" says Harry excitedly. "So nothing's keeping _anyone_ from having sex! And _still_ boys aren't allowed in the girls' dormitories! It's simply not fair!"

"What has gotten _into_ you?" McGonagall shrieks, and slams her hand hard against Harry's desk. "I don't want to hear any more of this _nonsense_! Ten points from Gryffindor for being snotty, mr Way, and _you_ , mr Potter, will see me at detention tonight!"

Everyone gape at her, and Harry shrugs. "Okay, professor, but -"

"No more talking!" she cuts him off sharply. "I think we will have to teach you lot a few things!" She storms angrily to the front of the classroom, with a flick of her wand cleaning the blackboard from instructions. With her back to the class, she draws in the air with her wand, and on the blackboard new letters appear.

_**S E X** _

They only have time to giggle nervously before her wand cuts through the air sharply, and a thick line crosses the word on the board.

_**~~S E X~~ ** _

"Sex," she exclaims loudly, "is not allowed, whether you are gay, straight, bi, curious, in Gryffindor, in Slytherin, a boy, a girl, a ghost, alone, two people, an entire class, brothers, sisters, cats or owls, I don't _care_. You are simply _not_ to do it, because you're not old enough and it is too much of a risk, both for yourselves and others, and you must _not_ do it. Understood?"

They all nod, a little scared, but they hide smirks behind their hands and know this is the one rule they all feel no shame in breaking. Except Ray. And maybe Neville.

"I repeat, you must _not_."

And Frank giggles and whispers "Or we will get pregnant and die," to Gerard, who inevitably cracks up. Mikey rolls his eyes at them and thinks they've watched Mean Girls too many fucking times.

McGonagall does a twist with her wand and a little plastic thingy appears floating in the air, and oh my God they all start blushing when they realize it's a rubber.

"This," says McGonagall, "is what Muggles call a 'condom'. You must always use one, or learn how to perform a Contraceptive Charm. One of those must be used at all times. Alright?"

They nod again but still share knowing smirks, and Mikey even dares to ask "Does that mean we are allowed to do it then, if we use a condom?" and McGonagall loses it again.

" _NO_! You're _certainly_ not! Way, I can't _believe_ you, ten points from Gryffindor and detention on Saturday!"

Mikey sighs in defeat because why the fuck does that always have to happen to him, and McGonagall continues. 

" _Now_ , sex isn't all it's cracked up to be, so I want you to all to take great caution in your acquaintances with people and not be -", she rants on, and when she lets them leave the classroom half an hour later all the Gryffindor fifth years are _incredibly_ well taught in the school's rules regarding reproduction, and also incredibly giggly.

~ ~ ~ ~

“So, I want to try this new thing,” Frank says excitedly during lunch, pulling at a strand of Gerard’s hair. And Gerard shoots him an insecure smile, because usually the new things Frank wants to try are either scary, or involve Gerard dressing in drag in bed, and/or could go horribly wrong.

“What?” he asks shakily, afraid to hear the answer.

“I want to dye your hair bright red!” Frank beams, and Gerard has to do a double take because _what_?

“Uh,” he says, “what?”

Frank isn’t discouraged by his lack of enthusiasm. Not at all.

“I saw that Fred had left his copy of _Guide to Advanced Transfiguration_ just lying around in the common room, or wait, it might have been George… Anyway, I found this spell that changes your hair color, and you would look so good in red, like, I just really want to do it, pretty pretty pleeeeeeease?”

And Gerard doesn’t know what to do, because Frank is looking at him all puppy-dog-eyed and cute, so he says yes even though he knows that Frank a, isn’t really the best at magic, and b, never does his homework, and c, generally really _sucks_ at Transfiguration, and d, is in no way ready to take on _N.E.W.T_ -level spells. But, whatever, Gerard figures. He can get Hermione to fix it later.

“You’re the best, I love you, thank you thank you thank you thank you!” Frank chimes and throws himself around Gerard’s neck, and Gerard pats his back a little awkwardly, feeling only slightly nauseous.

~ ~ ~ ~

Hermione is making out with Ginny in her dorm when her phone rings. It’s late at night and she doesn’t want to pick it up, because people should be asleep and not needing her and she’s, well, _making out here_ , but her ringtone is annoying and Ginny pinches her in the side because she wants her to turn it off, so groaning she pulls herself free and takes a look at the screen, and it’s Frank.

“You’re interrupting sex, Iero,” she says tiredly when she picks up, damning all gay boys in Hogwarts to hell, and Ginny raises an amused eyebrow at her.

“ _Sorry_ ,” says Frank, sounding kind of flustered, “ _but I’m having a bit of an emergency over here_.”

“I’m not available at the moment, I’m having sex,” she bites back, and Ginny strokes her hand softly over her inner thigh and _oh my God_ she wants to hang up the phone _NOW_.

“ _I’m sorry, but I ruined Gerard’s hair_!” Frank cries desperately, and Hermione hates him.

“What did you do?” she asks angrily, and he sighs.

“ _I wanted to transfigurate it to turn it red_ ,” he whines, “ _but the spell backfired and he’s completely bald and his scalp is bright purple. You have to help me_!”

Hermione leans down to kiss Ginny warmly before answering, because she cannot fucking take this, and Frank makes more whiny noises on the other side of the line. “What spell did you use?” she asks and lets Ginny press wet kisses over her throat, and it makes it really hard for Hermione to concentrate.

“ _I don’t know_ ,” Frank mumbles, “ _some from the seventh years’ book, I don’t know_ ,” and Hermione rolls her eyes.

“Wait, I think I know which one you mean,” she says and reluctantly rolls out of the bed, ignoring Ginny’s protesting noises. “I’ll be right over to fix it.” And she hangs up the phone and quickly jumps into her nightgown again, leaning down to kiss Ginny goodbye.

“I’ll be back in five minutes,” she whispers gingerly against Ginny’s lips. “Don’t go anywhere, okay?” and Ginny smirks and relaxes back into the pillows as she watches Hermione leave, because as fucking _if_ she’d be going anywhere right now.

~ ~ ~ ~ 

"I _so_ didn't deserve detention," Harry complains in his dorm, after he has finished his detention wiping all the marble floors in the library. "I was just standing up for the rights of straight people."

"Baby," says Draco, "you called McGonagall a _heterophobe_. You had it coming."

And Harry makes a sad noise in agreement and rests his head on Draco's chest, and is glad that at least Draco isn't a girl, because that would make things _so_ much more difficult.

~ ~ ~ ~

”Okay,” says Hermione when Frank lets her into the boys’ dorm. On one of the beds sits one devastated Gerard Way in tears, bald and purple-headed. Hermione just barely bites back a laugh. “Don’t worry, I can fix this,” she says reassuringly, and Frank beams at her. 

“Can I help, is there anything I can –“, he starts, but Gerard cuts him off sharply.

“I think you’ve done enough, Frankie, thank you very much.”

Hermione rolls her eyes at them and gets to work immediately, because as soon as this is over and done with she can go have sex with her girlfriend. Which she wants. Right now, please and thank you. So she fixes Gerard’s hair quickly with a simple counter spell, and with an extra little twist of her wand she even turns it bright red, like Frank wanted, and they both beam delightedly at her when she’s done.

“I love you, I love you, Hermione Granger, I _love_ you,” Gerard cries and throws his arms around her waist, clinging tightly to her though she tries to squirm away.

“No problem,” she says distractedly, trying to pry his arms away, but he won’t budge and soon Frank joins in as well, embracing them both tightly.

“Hermione,” he exclaims loudly into her shoulder, “I love you so much and you just improved my boyfriend _greatly_. You rule!”, and she kind of hates him for holding her back from Ginny.

“You know,” she sighs, “you both are _so_ cockblocking me right now. Let me go, please?”, and Frank snickers at her.

“Pussyblocking,” he giggles, and they both let go of her quickly when she hits him.

“Have fun!” Gerard shouts after her when she storms out, and Frank grins at him.

“I think the girls are onto something fun, wanna follow suit?” he asks lewdly, and yes, Gerard wants to. Very much.

~ ~ ~ ~

Nighttime is sexytime, according to Draco and Harry, and since Harry’s dorm is empty apart from them they don’t waste any time. Thrusting their tongues down each other’s throats and grinding heavily against each other on the bed, they struggle together to find a rhythm that suits them.

“I want you to fuck me harder than I’ll ever be fucked again,” Draco grins, and Harry shudders. He doesn’t complain. 

There is something about Draco’s constant need to get what he wants that really gets to Harry; he doesn’t mind. Draco is all for telling Harry exactly what he wants, _needs_ , and though Harry is sure Draco’s dirty talking one day will be the death of him, he still knows that Draco is right, whatever he says. 

Whatever Draco tells him that he wants, Harry will give to him. If Draco says he wants Harry’s cock buried so deep in his ass they’ll both be seeing stars, Harry will oblige. If Draco says he wants Harry to suck him off right in the middle of Potions in front of everyone and _Snape_ , Harry will do just that. And Harry is sure that if Draco ever told him he wanted to fuck Harry wearing a pink bow and a tutu, while singing “Voldy is a MILF” at the top of his lungs on national TV, Harry wouldn’t object. Because everything Draco wants, Harry wants as well.

Draco has ripped Harry’s shirt off, thrust a hand into his boyfriend’s underwear and is sucking a deep red hickey into Harry’s chest when there is a loud BAM! echoing through the dorm, and startled he tears his mouth away from Harry to see what’s going on. There, a funny-looking house elf stands, wearing socks that don’t match and a knitted sweater in the color of poo.

“Evil, twisted young mr Malfoy, you can’t hurt Harry Potter!” the elf yelps, jumping onto the bed and kicking and pounding at Draco with full force, who rolls off of Harry and angrily swats at the elf to make it stop.

“Ew, get off me!” Draco complains, but the elf won’t budge.

“Sick, evil bastard!” it screams. “Stop hurting Harry Potter!”

“Dobby!” Harry says sternly and grabs the house elf by the sweater, and tears him away from Draco. “He’s not hurting me, I _want_ him to do what he did!”

“Draco Malfoy is an evil young wizard, and Dobby can’t let him hurt Harry Potter, oh no!” Dobby says, with green eyes huge and earnest, and Harry sighs as the elf glares at Draco.

“Believe it or not,” Draco says and rolls his eyes, “but I’m having sex with my boyfriend, and it would be easier for all of us if you left before you got to see some _real_ action.”

Dobby’s eyes widen in disbelief and Harry shoots Draco an annoyed glance, and Draco just crosses his arms in front of his chest and smirks. 

“Harry Potter, sir,” Dobby says apologetically and ducks his head towards Harry, “Dobby doesn’t think mr Malfoy is good for you and though Dobby is sure he would like you to stay with him so he can further corrupt you, professor Dumbledore has sent Dobby with a message.”

Harry sits up quickly and Draco wraps his arms around him from behind, pressing soft kisses to his back.

“Dumbledore sent you?” Harry asks. “What does he want?”

“He says to meet him in professor McGonagall’s classroom, Harry Potter. It was urgent, he said,” Dobby explains and Harry sighs.

“There is no way I’m letting you leave,” says Draco. “I want you to fuck me and I want you to do it now.”

Harry shivers and makes a small noise in contemplation, and Dobby covers his ears with his hands because he thinks Draco is saying gross things.

“I can fuck you later,” Harry says and arches his back involuntarily as Draco softly bites down at the skin on his hip. “I’ll be back.”

He stands up curtly, tugging a shirt over his head, and Draco groans in defeat. The elf bows at Harry and snaps his fingers, disappearing into thin air, and Harry jumps into his shoes quickly.

“I’ll be here, thinking of you,” Draco calls after him with a smirk as Harry walks out the door, and he knows that Harry will be thinking of him as well.

~ ~ ~ ~

Dumbledore is already waiting for him when Harry walks into McGonagall’s classroom, sitting at the teacher’s desk with an expectant look on his face.

“Ah, Harry, my boy,” he says and nods, and gestures at Harry to sit down on a chair on the other side of the desk.

“Why did you ask me to come here, sir?” Harry wonders as he takes a seat, and Dumbledore peers at him over the rim of his half moon shaped glasses. “Why not in your office, like usual?”

“There are some things I would rather not share with my predecessors, Harry,” Dumbledore replies, and Harry quirks an eyebrow at him. 

“Your what, sir?”

“The portraits,” Dumbledore explains with a smile, and of course, Harry understands.

“But sir,” he asks, “what could possibly be so urgent that you needed to summon me in the middle of the night?”

“It has come to my attention that recently you had another little peek into Lord Voldemort’s world,” the Headmaster explains, and Harry gulps. He’d rather not talk about this.

“Yes, I did, sir,” he admits, and Dumbledore flashes him a tiny smile.

“I would like to get to hear all about this, because as I’m sure you already know, it’s of deep importance,” he says, and Harry scratches the back of his neck nervously, because he’s fine with telling Dumbledore about this, as long as the Headmaster doesn’t find out in what situation Harry was when it happened. And wow, that reminds him of Draco and the situation he should be in right now, and he figures the quickest way to get back into Draco’s arms is just to tell Dumbledore the fucking story, so he does.

“There was a man,” he begins reluctantly, “and his name was Rowle, I think.”

~ ~ ~ ~

Draco doesn’t think Harry’s dorm is the most entertaining of dorms. At least not when Harry isn’t in it.

He is hard, _painfully_ hard, and he has been waiting for ages and Harry is not coming back. He tries not to think about Harry, tries not to think about the taste of his lips or the smell of his cologne or the feel of his cock in Draco’s hand, but of course trying not to think about it only makes him think about it _more_ , and Draco is on the breaking point.

He doesn’t want to jerk off, because that would totally ruin all the fun he’s supposed to be having with Harry right fucking now. But he doesn’t want to wait either, and as his mind starts torturing him with images of Harry’s cock, hard and wet and leaking, his mouth waters and Draco can’t stand it anymore. Suddenly he finds himself hungry not for Harry’s cock in his ass anymore, but for that cock in his _mouth_. He wants it. Now, please and thank you.

He figures Harry won’t come back if Draco doesn’t remind him of what he’s missing, so deciding to take matters into his own hands Draco hops out of the bed and starts rummaging through Harry’s trunk. He finds the invisibility cloak, and with a smirk he wraps it around himself and watches his body disappear. 

_Perfect_.

He walks out of the Gryffindor quarters and away to the ground floor where the Transfiguration classroom is. The castle is dark and there are shadows everywhere, but Draco has forgotten his wand in Harry’s dorm and can’t cast a Lumos spell, no matter how much he would want to. Though he can find his way through the school anyway; he knows his way around, and when he reaches the door behind which he knows Harry and the Headmaster are, he can hear their voices through the wall.

He slides the door open slowly, just enough for him to be able to get through, and sneaks into the room without a breath. Harry and Dumbledore both react when the door clicks shut again, but thankfully they only raise their eyebrows, and don’t say anything. 

“Now, Harry,” Dumbledore continues as Draco silently crawls underneath their table, “I would like to ask you in what state your mind was in when Voldemort was able to intrude.”

Draco bites back a snicker and hears Harry say, “I think I was asleep, sir,” and he can hear how nervous Harry suddenly is.

“You’ve never been particularly good at Occlumency, Harry, there’s no use trying to hide things from me,” the Headmaster says with a smile in his voice, and Draco shifts closer to Harry slowly.

“I – I don’t know what you mean, sir,” Harry stutters out nervously, and Draco decides to just go for it. He slides a hand slowly up Harry’s leg, and his boyfriend jumps startled in his seat.

“What’s wrong, Harry?” Dumbledore asks, as Draco quickly undoes Harry’s button and fly, taking his cock out of his underwear and licking a firm stripe from the base of it right to the tip. He grins when he hears Harry’s breath hitch in his throat, and his boyfriend’s hand searches through the air under the desk to find whoever is touching him. Draco nudges his head up into Harry’s palm, and he hears Harry let out a held in breath when his fingers clutch onto Draco’s silky hair.

“N – nothing, professor,” Harry says quickly as Draco very deliberately licks his cock again, feeling it harden at his touch, and he smirks and takes the tip into his mouth immediately because he knows that since Harry isn’t kicking him away, he has pretty much given him permission. 

“I just thought - I thought I heard something,” Harry continues, and maybe his voice is a little higher pitched than usual and it makes Draco very pleased with himself.

“Anyway,” says Dumbledore and Harry slides down more in his seat to completely hide what’s going on from Dumbledore’s view, biting down hard on his tongue as to not make any noise, “I don’t think you were asleep, Harry.”

“I was, though,” Harry says quickly, biting back a curse as Draco sucks all of him in at once, ignoring his gag reflex. His hand tightens in Draco’s hair, and he glances briefly down to his lap and almost gasps when he doesn’t see anything there. His legs and dick and Draco are all invisible, and he glares at nothing because of course, Draco has stolen his fucking cloak.

“Pardon me for being blunt, but I think you were with Draco when it happened,” Dumbledore continues in a soft tone, and Draco nearly laughs out loud because it’s too ironic. 

When Harry doesn’t say anything, only continues to bite down on his tongue (because he knows that if he opened his mouth right now only moans of Draco’s name would fall from his lips, not cohesive responses to Dumbledore’s statements), Dumbledore raises an eyebrow and leans closer to him over the table, resting his fingertips against each other.

“You need to protect yourself, Harry,” he says, and Draco and Harry’s eyes both widen. Draco nearly chokes as Dumbledore continues, “It is crucial that you protect yourself both against Voldemort and against the other dangers that are out there.”

Harry doesn’t want to hear what other dangers there are, he just wants to keep getting sucked off by Draco, preferably not in front of their fucking Headmaster, but Draco only keeps on sucking, hard and gleeful as if they were alone. And Dumbledore doesn’t seem discouraged by Harry’s lack of speaking either.

“Sex, Harry,” he whispers conspiratorially, and this time Draco actually _does_ laugh out loud. The sound is quick and curt and gets mostly muffled by the cock in his mouth, but Dumbledore still quirks an eyebrow questioningly at Harry. 

“You need to be very careful, and use protection in all situations or the consequences may be huge,” the Headmaster continues as if nothing has happened, and Harry’s entire body tenses up and he feels his face heat up as Draco worries his lips around the head of his cock. 

“I remember what it was like to be young and in love,” Dumbledore continues with a wistful sigh, and Harry clutches on harder to Draco’s hair and thinks he must look completely constipated right now because of the way his face is scrunched up into a grimace, “and I know that sometimes, it’s easy to get caught up in the moment, and sometimes when one is with that special someone all sense of logic completely disappears from ones mind, but it’s important to remember that protection should always come first. Same goes for Occlumency; you need to learn to protect your mind from Voldemort’s penetration.”

Draco swallows around Harry and tries hard not to laugh, and as Harry’s hand tightens in his hair he pulls off and pushes his tongue into Harry’s slit because damn it, he wants to be slow and teasing and mean, because this is the most fun he has had in ages. 

And as Dumbledore rambles on to deaf ears about Voldemort and Occlumency and safe gay sex, Draco slowly gets Harry closer and closer to the edge. He almost can’t keep from laughing, because this situation is just _too_ bizarre, but he feels kind of like the king of the world because he knows that tomorrow when he tells everyone about this, he will get raised to the sky as the coolest guy to ever walk the Hogwarts corridors.

“Do you understand me?” Dumbledore says sternly after what seems like ages of slow licking and hard sucking, and Harry lets out a high pitched “Mhm,” and spills his load down Draco’s throat without any warning.

Draco swallows it all down greedily, because after all, this was what he was thirsty for in the first place, and when Harry is completely spent and slouched in his seat tiredly, Draco gently tucks his dick into his pants and does his button and fly again. The hand in his hair slowly combs through his messy locks, and Draco grabs it and presses a soft kiss to the back of his hand, and Harry lets out a soft sigh as Dumbledore continues to rant about stuff neither of them cares about, continuing to brush gently though Draco’s hair.

Draco sits back on his heels and leans his head softly against Harry’s knees, and Harry grabs his hand in his own without a word and Draco cannot stop smiling. This is possibly the number one coolest thing he has ever done, and though he knows Harry probably hates him for it, it is still legendary.

And when Dumbledore has told Harry everything he needed to know, Draco shuffles out from underneath the desk and walks with Harry out of the room, keeping a hand in the small of Harry’s back to let him know that he’s right behind him. They walk in silence with the Headmaster until they come to the stairs up to the seventh floor, where Dumbledore leaves them and bids Harry goodnight. 

Harry wastes no time when the Headmaster has vanished, and immediately pushes Draco against the wall behind a stone gargoyle. He hears Draco giggle and pushes the hood of the cloak back, and is met by Draco’s smirking face and he can’t not kiss him, so he does.

“You,” he says urgently against his boyfriend’s lips, “are insane and I hate you,” and Draco only laughs.

“You weren’t coming back,” he explains with a dangerous glint in his eyes, “and I told you I needed to be fucked. I had to do something, right?”

“I can’t believe you just sucked me off in front of Dumbledore,” Harry groans and kisses him again, and Draco’s laugh drowns out into Harry’s mouth. “And you took my cloak,” he continues against Draco’s lips, “and you made me want to kill myself. Thanks a lot.”

He pulls away, and Draco grins at him.

“What can I say?” Draco smirks. “I’ve never been the most patient of guys, have I?”

And Harry rolls his eyes, pressing himself closer and sliding a hand down over Draco’s chest as they kiss, and in spite of himself, Harry is kind of glad Draco decided to come.

“Now,” purrs Draco when they break apart, “I suggest we go back to my dorm. We’ve got some unfinished business to attend to.”

And Harry can’t say no. He can never say no, because everything Draco wants, Harry wants as well.

~ ~ ~ ~

When the Gryffindor fifth years all trek down to the Dark Forest the next morning for their lesson in Care of Magical Creatures, Gerard’s red hair is shining brightly in the sun and no one dares to say a word to him about his new look. Because for some reason, whenever Gerard Way changes his hair the entire school comes together to gossip, swoon or mock him, and for some reason Gerard never realizes that everyone are talking about him. (The general thought is that Gerard has the best hair in the school. Which is weird because he almost never washes it, and when he does, he doesn’t put in much effort.) So as he and Frank skip happily hand in hand down to Hagrid’s cottage, everyone else make sure to stay a few feet behind them so they can discuss the mess on his head in peace.

(“Has he been hexed?” wonders Dean Thomas.

“It must have been a dare,” says Seamus Finnegan.

“I heard he tried to shave it but Frank convinced him not to,” conspires Parvati Patil.

“I think he looks gorgeous,” sighs Lavender Brown.)

And Hagrid’s not there when they get down to the cottage, which is weird because he’s the teacher and he’s supposed to be on time. Frank sees Hermione and Ron come down to them with Pete and Mikey following close behind, and he squeals when Hermione reaches them. 

“I love you!” he exclaims and throws himself into her arms, and she raises an eyebrow at Gerard who has to tug Frank away from her with a blush.

“He really likes it,” he translates Frank’s giddy squeals to, and Hermione rolls her eyes.

“Hang on,” they hear a sharp voice smirking from above the hill. “Is that your head on fire, Way?”

They all turn and see the Slytherin class coming down the hill, Harry and Draco in the lead as always. Frank scowls and grabs Gerard’s hand, trying to be all protective and threatening. Gerard just thinks it’s cute.

“My, my,” says Draco amusedly when they reach the cottage, checking out Gerard’s hair with raised eyebrows. “Interesting choice of styling, Way,” he says with a shake of his head and the Slytherins snicker behind him, smirking at Gerard who starts to blush.

“You have anything to say, Malfoy?” Frank asks with an edge to his voice that is simply dangerous, and Draco only smirks.

“Not really, I’m just wondering why anyone would willingly want to look like a Weasley,” he leers, and Gerard gasps like _oh no he didn’t_ because honestly he’s a little hurt, and on Draco’s command all the Slytherins start laughing like hyenas as the Gryffindors all crack their knuckles and scowl.

“Be nice, Draco,” Harry sharply scolds his boyfriend, but Draco is a Death Eater (“No, he’s _not_ ,” Harry would protest here, but who the fuck cares) and it’s physically impossible for him to be nice to anyone but possibly Harry, so he only laughs and crosses his arms in front of his chest, raising his eyebrows for the Gryffindors to bring it on.

And Ron does. He comes from out of nowhere and punches Draco straight in the face, and as he stumbles back and blood flows from his nose Harry shrieks like a little girl because it’s scary. Then Frank steps up too, punching Draco even _harder_ than Ron had, all in defense of Gerard’s honor, and Draco shakes it off and punches both of them back because they are a bunch of sissies and this is not cool.

“No, Frankie!” says Gerard worriedly and tries to get in between them, as fists and legs and limbs fly everywhere in a whirl of mayhem. “It’s not worth it!” but then somebody pulls his hair and it _hurts_ so Gerard lets go and squirms away and crashes sadly into Hermione’s arms as they all stand by and watch, cheering the fighters on. And no one knows what to do, how to stop them, so they just let them fight like Muggles for a while because luckily no one has thought of taking out their wands, and honestly it’s kind of fun to watch.

“Stop it!” Harry whines, totally worried about Draco. “Hermione, make them stop!”, because Hermione is seriously the only one to turn to when something is wrong, and she rolls her eyes and lets him come hug her as well, and he buries his head in her hair just like Gerard has done because neither of them can stand to watch, and Hermione hates her life and all gay boys in it.

Rescue comes in the form of Hagrid, finally turning up from the Forest with a handful of peacock heads in his hands. “Wha’ on earth yer doin’, boys?” he grunts and makes his way quickly through the gawping crowd, letting go of the peacock heads all over Lavender’s shoes (and she whines in disgust), and then he dives in between the fighters and grabs Draco by the neck in one hand, while keeping Ron and Frank apart with the other. 

“Let go of me, you big dumb oaf!” Draco shrieks, kicking wildly around in the air, and Hagrid’s grip of him doesn’t falter.

“Let me kill that son of a bitch,” Ron growls, and the Gryffindors cheer him on, but Hagrid’s eyes narrow.

“Yer goin’ to the hospital wing, the lot o’ you,” says Hagrid and stomps off, dragging the three by their hands with him, and it’s really for the best, because all three are covered in blood and bruises and Draco’s nose looks a little crooked and off. “And the rest o’ you stay here and wait for me!” Hagrid shouts back at the rest of the class, but Gerard and Harry whine worriedly and tag along, because they really can’t stand not being with their poor boyfriends when they’re hurt.

“So much drama,” Hermione mutters to herself, because there is nothing more tiring than gay boys.

~ ~ ~ ~

When the Care of Magical Creatures lesson is over and Madam Pomfrey has fixed Draco’s broken nose and cleaned all of their wounds, Harry and Gerard are both a little sad but it’s nothing Draco and Frank can’t fix. Frank makes out with Gerard and then everything is okay, and Draco lets Harry cuddle up to him in his hospital bed and that stops Harry’s whining. Ray stands in the back of the room and says nothing, and Mikey and Pete are nowhere to be found but that’s no out of the ordinary. And Hermione tells them that they shouldn’t feel sorry for themselves because it was their own goddamned fault and they’re pussies, and it makes Ron want to go sulk in a corner. It also makes Gerard almost cry. Almost.

~ ~ ~ ~

Harry is in a dark room, sitting behind a desk in a lush leather chair, stroking a heavy serpent over its back with his long, white fingers. He doesn’t know where he is or why he’s here, but for some reason he doesn’t question, because he’s not in control. He’s merely a spectator. “You have failed me, Lucius,” he hears himself saying coldly to a man bowing at his feet, trembling with fear.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what to do with him, he’s rebelling, my lord,” Lucius Malfoy says in a shaky voice from crouched on the floor, and Harry lets out an ice cold laugh.

“ _Crucio_!”, and Malfoy immediately starts to thrash and shake in intense cramps on the floor, and Harry watches with cold laughter in his eyes.

“The mistake is entirely your own because you have simply not raised him right, Lucius,” he says dismissively and lowers his wand, and the threat in his words is silent but clear as he watches Malfoy slowly recover. “Your son is fraternizing with our purest enemy and you will answer for his actions. Young Draco’s relationship with Harry Potter is sick and unhealthy, and if you have not ordered him to fool Potter in order to get close to him in my service – which I know was never your intention – this relationship must end at once or there will be consequences, Lucius, consequences that will harm you and your family greatly because I will not have this.”

“I’m sorry,” Lucius apologizes with a frantic shake of his head, sending his gleaming silvery hair haywire, “I don’t know what to do with him, my lord!”

“I will not stand for this,” Harry snarls slowly through clenched teeth, and the snake Nagini in his arms lets out a hiss in agreement. “I will not have my best Death Eater’s son, next in line for being Marked, unashamedly defy me by desiring the one person I only want dead. It is all our mission to destroy Harry Potter, and your son is singlehandedly making all our efforts worth nothing. Harry Potter must go down and if you don’t make your son see sense, I will personally make sure Draco goes down with him as well. Are we clear?” he says sternly, and Lucius whimpers into his hands.

“I assure you, master, I will do my very best,” he says through desperate tears, and Harry shakes his head.

“No, Lucius,” he says. “ _I_ will do my best. We will together go to Hogwarts, and we will destroy that rotten little betrayer if he doesn’t see sense and joins us. And then together we will take down Harry Potter, and I swear, Lucius, I will make Draco watch as I kill him.”

“Draco won’t mind, master,” Lucius pants breathlessly. “I’m sure of it, my lord. He doesn’t love Potter, it must be a trick. I will personally make sure that Draco stands amongst us and watches in triumph as we win, my lord.”

“Love,” Harry declares coldly, “is but an illusion and Draco has been fooled. I have your word that he will see sense, Lucius, and I will remember what you’ve promised. And I’m sure you won’t fail me again,” and then he feels himself slipping away from Voldemort’s mind. When he wakes up he’s laying safe in Draco’s arms in the Slytherin dorm, and as his scar pounds and throbs with pain he has never felt more frightened in his entire life.

~ ~ ~ ~

“So he knows?” Ron asks in fright in the common room, eyes wide open in disbelief. “You-Know-Who knows that you and Malfoy are together? Bloody hell!”

Harry nods somberly, and he doesn’t feel bad for skipping Charms and hiding up here instead, because this is a crisis. “And it sounded like they were going to try and break us up or something. But that’s not really the problem, what scares me is that Draco is in danger now too, Voldemort wants him dead as well!”

“Draco will be fine,” Gerard assures him, taking Harry’s hand in his own to comfort him. “Have you talked to him about this?”

“Well,” Harry admits, “he doesn’t seem to think it’s a problem. He wasn’t even mad, he just said we’ll be fine so I don’t really know if he understands how serious this is.”

Gerard shakes his head, looking alarmed and uneasy, and as the rain whips at the windows they all turn to watch the sky, as if they are expecting to see an army of dark wizards emerge from the clouds right in this moment.

“You need to tell Dumbledore,” Mikey says. “They could be on their way right now, and we need to be prepared.”

And of course, why had no one else thought of that? It’s the only thing that makes sense to do right now, and Harry shoots up from his seat immediately and makes a run for the door. “Tell Hermione,” he shouts over his shoulder to the others as he climbs out the hole in the wall, and Mikey rushes to text her.

“ _yo we hve an emrgncy: harry had a voldy vision again n da deaf etrz r on ther way hre 2 kill him n malfoy. voldy is comin 2 n we dnt no wat 2 do. help_??”

The response comes instantly and they all crowd around Mikey on the couch to see what she says. 

“ _If you haven’t noticed, Michael, I am in class and so should you be. Do you realize what kind of a risk I’m taking by texting in class? You should be ashamed. But that aside, if Voldemort is coming we must really get ready. I trust you’ve sent someone to warn Dumbledore? I promise I’ll be right with you as soon as Charms is over._ ”, and it’s really amazing how quickly that girl can type. (What’s also amazing is how no emergency apparently fazes her enough to stop her from using perfect grammar.)

Ron bites down on his bottom lip nervously and runs a hand through his hair quickly. “If Hermione isn’t coming until Charms is over we need to come up with a plan by ourselves,” he says and they all nod along, even though they have no idea how to come up with a plan without Hermione and Dumbledore.

And then suddenly everything just gets darker and darker, and when they look out of the window they see black clouds building up over the sky. And then, out of the clouds fly two enormous bat-looking creatures, leathery wings and cold stone eyes, and in panic they all sit frozen in their seats.

They’re here. 

~ ~ ~ ~

Harry runs as fast as he can down the stairs to the third floor where he knows the entrance to the Headmaster’s Office is located, and when he reaches a certain stone gargoyle statue he stops abruptly, short of breath and sweaty from running so fast. The gargoyle doesn’t acknowledge him, and Harry tries to wreck his brain to come up with the password. 

“Cauldron Cake!” he tries, but the gargoyle doesn’t move. “Sugar Mice! Pixie Puffs! Fudge Flies!” but nothing happens. 

“For Merlin’s sake,” Harry growls impatiently, “wake up, you bloody thing… Jelly Slugs, Peppermint Toads, Sugar Quills, Toothflossing Stringmints –“, he lists all types of candy he can think of, and finally the gargoyle comes to life and jumps out of the way, revealing a staircase. Harry frowns because he wouldn’t have thought anyone would be interested in those things but possibly Hermione’s parents. He steps onto it, waiting as it starts to slowly ascend, too fucking slowly.

“Come on, come on…” he mutters but that doesn’t make it go any faster, and he gets closer and closer to the door at the top of the stairs at a snail's pace.

“Professor Dumbledore!” Harry shouts breathlessly when the moving stairs have finally reached the top of the tower, flinging himself into the office before the stairs have even stopped moving completely. Dumbledore sits behind his desk reading a book, and merely raises a curious eyebrow at Harry.

“Harry, my friend!” he smiles, closing his book. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Voldemort, sir,” Harry pants, leaning against the doorframe and trying to catch his breath. “He’s coming, sir, to Hogwarts,” and Dumbledore’s eyes widen, and he turns to look out the window, where the sky has already darkened.

“Yes, yes, that is quite clear,” he says and peers at Harry over the rim of his half-moon shaped glasses. “It’s for Draco, I assume?”

Harry presses a hand against his burning scar, and it must mean that Voldemort is close, because it aches like never before and he doesn’t know what to make of it. 

“Yes, sir, and I’m scared for him,” he admits with a shudder as pain shoots through his head, and Dumbledore nods slowly.

“Well, my boy, don’t waste time here with me then, go find Draco and stay close to him,” Dumbledore smiles at Harry’s confused expression, and rises from his seat behind the desk to place a fatherly hand on Harry’s shoulder. “I’ll take care of things, just you go be with Draco. I’m sure that’s what you want,” and really, Harry has to agree.

“Thank you, professor,” he smiles shakily and turns to climb the stairs down again, leaving Dumbledore to his plans.

~ ~ ~ ~ 

Hermione rushes out from the classroom as soon as Flitwick has given the class permission to go, and she makes her way quickly through the crowd of students to get to the Gryffindor common room, and takes a shortcut through an empty corridor before starting to climb the stairs to the seventh floor. She takes the steps three by three, and after what feels like an eternity of racing uphill she finally gets to the portrait of the Fat Lady.

“Babbitty Rabbitty,” she says breathlessly and the portrait swings open and lets her climb through the hole in the wall.

“Michael Way!” she exclaims once she’s inside the common room, and she rushes to the couch where he, Gerard and Ron are seated. “Where’s Harry?”

They tell her the whole story about Harry’s dream and the darkening sky, and she gasps in surprise when she looks out the window and realizes that Voldemort should already be here somewhere. 

“Fuck,” she states nervously once they’ve told her everything, and all their eyebrows disappear up into their hairlines because no one has ever heard Hermione curse before. “We need to warn everybody, tell them what’s –“, but there’s no need to, because suddenly Dumbledore’s voice rings through the castle at a massive volume.

“Students, staff, this is an emergency and we need stay calm,” Dumbledore says, pronouncing the words slowly so that absolutely no part of his message can be misunderstood. “Lord Voldemort has a mission at Hogwarts, and I reckon soon mayhem will be over us. All students must follow the prefects down to the Great Hall and await further instructions. I repeat, follow your prefects to the Great Hall where we will wait. If we stand together Lord Voldemort has absolutely no chance in taking us apart.”

The silence that follows his message is deafening, and the students in the Gryffindor common room stare at each other in fear.

“Well,” Hermione speaks up, and her voice is a little more shrill than usual, “follow me then, everybody, come on!” And she rushes to the hole in the wall quickly, and chaos breaks out as they all hurry to follow her. 

They almost fly down the stairs, a huge mass of people as they’re joined by other classes coming from every direction, all trying to climb the main staircase down to the Great Hall as fast as possible.

“Frank!” Gerard realizes and stops dead in his track once they’ve almost gotten down to the Hall, causing several people behind him to trip, and Mikey and Ron just stare at him, because seriously, no time can be wasted. “He’s not here!”

Ron and Mikey exchange worried glances but continue to shuffle on forwards, and suddenly Gerard gets pushed from behind, and he crashes down the last few steps of the stair, landing on the marble floor in a heap of tangled limbs. He screams out in pain and tries to stand up, but falls to the floor again. Behind him people rush down again, now that the stair isn’t blocked anymore, and Ron and Mikey hurry down to him to help him up.

“Take my hand,” Ron offers and tries to heave Gerard up on his feet, but his right leg just caves beneath him and Gerard falls to the floor. His leg sticks out in a weird angle and as people flood around them the realization dawns on them; Gerard’s leg is broken.

“Don’t wait for me,” Gerard says through the blinding pain and shuffles away from the massive crowd. “Go into the Great Hall, I’ll go out and see if I can find Frankie!”

“No!” Mikey protests, “I can’t just leave you here alone, idiot!”, but the swarming crowd around them is already forcing them away, and Gerard sits at the edge of the stairs and watches the students flow past him. When Mikey and Ron’s heads disappear into the crowd and he doesn’t see them anymore, he uses all of his strength to rise, and he skips on one foot away from the panicking crowd and out through the heavy doors.

~ ~ ~ ~

Harry rushes quickly down to the Slytherin dungeons, taking all the shortcuts he knows of and desperately trying hard not to bump into anybody on the way, because he doesn’t want to be slowed down. It’s at times like these he really hates that Draco is pure-blood, because if he had been a Muggle then he would have had a cell phone and they could have agreed on a place to meet up. But now instead Harry has to search through the entire castle for him, which is really just a waste of time.

Harry hears Dumbledore’s message echo through the air, and he hopes that Draco hears it too and somehow realizes that this is for _real_ , something to be worried about. People suddenly stream out from classrooms and corridors everywhere, and they’re all going in the opposite direction as him so making his way through the crowd proves almost impossible. But after what feels like an eternity of dodging people and zigzagging through the crowd he finally gets down to the staircase that leads to the dungeons, and though Slytherins flood it, going upstairs, Harry still throws himself into the swarm of people to try and get to Draco. 

He smashes into someone on the way, and they stop, clogging up the entire staircase and people behind them start pushing them forwards. 

“Harry!” says a familiar voice breathlessly, and when Harry looks up to meet whoever he crashed into’s eyes butterflies swarm in his stomach because it’s Draco. This must be Harry’s lucky day.

“They’re coming for us,” Harry says, and Draco nods with a dark shine in his eyes, leaning down to kiss him. All the way around them people make puking noises and shove them in all directions, but neither of them care because there’s no time to.

And once they break apart, Harry and Draco grasp hands and follow the crowd up from the dungeons, figuring wherever they go will be fine as long as they stick together.

~ ~ ~ ~

On the school’s courtyard two men stand, waiting endlessly for something. One of them is acting chilly, cold as ice and completely unfazed by the situation, and the other paces back and forth, murmuring to himself words of comfort, shivering and trembling in fear.

“We should go inside, my lord, there is no use just standing here,” the nervous one speaks up shakily, and his companion shakes his head firmly, listening to the screams and shouts drowning out from the castle.

“They know we’re here, Lucius,” he says grimly, and Lucius flinches at the sound of his name. “There’s already panic and turmoil everywhere and we haven’t even made our arrival official yet. They don’t need us to start a war, they’ll destroy themselves while we wait.”

“But Draco, my lord,” Lucius begs in a tiny voice, “Draco should be with us, and he’s not here.”

“All in good time, Lucius,” Voldemort drawls slowly, and Lucius buries his head in his hands.

“We can’t wait forever, my lord!” he cries, losing all sense of control. “I’ll go in there and find him, my lord, I will find him for you and make sure he sees sense!” he offers with a shaky voice, and Voldemort lets out a cold laugh.

“You don’t know Harry Potter like I do,” he smirks. “Before the night is over, he will come to us. There’s no need to go into the castle and join the chaos, because chaos spreads on its own like fire and we don’t need to fuel it. We will wait, and when time has come your dear son and that filthy half-blood of his will come. Have patience, Lucius.”

“I can’t,” Lucius whimpers. “I can’t, my lord, he’s my son,” and Voldemort shakes his head.

“Harry Potter’s lover is no son of yours, Lucius,” he speaks coldly, and Lucius falls to his knees in agony.

~ ~ ~ ~

Frank’s favorite place is a large rock in the courtyard, and Gerard knows that if Frank is anywhere, that’s where he is. Frank has always been the reckless type, the kind of guy who wouldn’t go and hide with the others just because danger is rising, he would go to his own safe place and wait there. Gerard thinks it’s kind of stupid but also kind of adorable, and then he realizes he’s pretty much a reckless twat as well, going off on his own to find his boyfriend.

Skipping on one leg is tiring, and it doesn’t take long until Gerard trips on a rock and falls over. The pain in his broken leg is blinding, too much, but then he hears voices and he doesn’t understand where they come from. He sits on the ground, clutching his aching foot, when a cold laugh chills his spine.

“Not hiding, like the rest of your little friends?” a man suddenly standing right at his feet smirks, and Gerard chokes on his breath when he sees red eyes, no nose, pale white skin. _Voldemort_. Too terrified to even speak a word, he gulps nervously.

“Shall I get rid of him for you, my lord?” a man behind Voldemort says shakily, eager to be of use, and Gerard feels queasy when he recognizes Draco Malfoy’s hair, nose, cheekbones and eyes. Draco’s father isn’t as stunningly handsome as his son, but the similarity is striking.

Voldemort gives a curt shake of his head, and Malfoy cowers back again, and Gerard doesn’t know what to do.

“Another Weasley, I see,” Voldemort spits venomously and Gerard tries to shuffle away from him in horror, clumsily scootching a little bit backwards to no use, because the broken leg is weighing him down. “Filthy blood traitors, the lot of you, although getting rid of you would be a shame, the waste of magical blood…”

Gerard shakes his head frantically, frightened. “Actually, sir, I’m not a Weasley, though I know quite a few of them. I’m muggleborn,” and he sees a flash of black in Voldemort’s red, vicious eyes as it occurs to him what he has just revealed to the most ruthless exterminator of the Muggles that has ever existed. He curses himself for being an idiot, and wishes his leg wasn’t broken so that he would have a chance of getting away.

“Well,” Voldemort leers and pulls his wand out of his robe, “then I guess it’s not such a waste after all,” and as he points his wand straight at Gerard everything happens in the blink of an eye.

“Not on my watch,” there’s a sudden roar from the sky, and from out of nowhere Frank Iero comes flying on a broomstick right over Voldemort’s head, snatching the wand from his grasp before soaring up again, away from Voldemort’s reach.

“Frankie,” Gerard pants in relief as Frank dives down to him quickly, grabbing his hand and with great effort pulling Gerard onto the broom. 

“Protego!” shouts Frank, trying to avoid the wordless, wandless hex he assumes Voldemort has shot them, and commanding the broomstick on forwards with all that he’s worth they fly faster and faster up to the sky, because even Lord Voldemort can’t reach them once they’re high enough above the ground, and especially not when he hasn’t got a wand.

“You won’t get away,” Voldemort hisses loudly after them where they shoot fast through the sky, “I’ll get you, you filthy Mudbloods,” and it doesn’t matter, nothing matters as Gerard clings tightly to Frank as they fly, because they’re together and though they’re still in grave danger they’ve never felt more safe.

Frank steers the broom over to the castle and spots the Gryffindor tower, and with a shout of “Reducto!” he uses Voldemort’s wand to bust one of the windows to fly inside. They crash onto the floor in the common room, landing on the red carpet in a heap of arms and legs and broomsticks. And as they look around the room, they see that they’re completely alone, because luckily Voldemort and Malfoy haven’t gotten as far as to the Gryffindor tower, but they can hear explosions and screams and shouts from afar and they can only hope that they’re safe for now.

“Frankie,” says Gerard breathlessly, “you saved me, you _saved_ me!” 

And Frank smiles and kisses him softly, because he’s there, because he’s alive, because Voldemort didn’t get to take him away. Gerard feels familiar butterflies tickle his stomach when Frank’s hands slide up into his hair, and his broken leg doesn’t even matter anymore because they made it. As they break apart, Gerard rests their foreheads together with a sigh, eyes blissfully closed. 

“How did you know I was there?” he asks, and Frank pecks his lips.

“Mikey told me you’d gone off on your own, you stupid oaf. What did you think, that you could take him down on your own?”, and Frank’s smile is crooked and his embrace feels like home.

Gerard blushes. “I thought you were out somewhere alone,” he says and Frank has to kiss him again because he’s alive and he’s adorable and it’s amazing. “Where were you?” he asks against Frank’s smiling lips.

“Charms, of course, where the rest of you should have been as well,” Frank grins and rolls his eyes as Gerard eagerly kisses him. 

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Frank asks worriedly once they break apart, and Gerard only smiles.

“Super-Frankie,” he mumbles through a smile. “You’re Super-Frankie.”

And because everything is so completely ridiculous, hilarious and tragic they both break out into laughter, warm and pure laughter that shakes them to the very core because they just looked death in the eye and defied it. Defied gravity.

And still laughing, Frank pulls out his own wand from his robe and whispers “Episkey,” and to Gerard’s surprise his leg suddenly heats up but as it cools down again, the fracture is gone and it’s as good as new. He raises a questioning eyebrow at Frank, who smiles.

“What?” he protests. “Is it really so hard to believe that I could actually succeed with trying to do magic?” And Gerard kisses him again, needy and clingy because he needs Frank, he loves him and he’s so grateful for him.

“I don’t want to go outside,” Gerard whispers when the moment’s lost and they’ve broke apart, and Frank’s eyes darken.

“We won’t,” he says and grabs Gerard’s hand, pulling him to his feet. “We’ll stay in our dorm, close the drapes around your bed, and we’ll cuddle and talk all night and nothing else will exist but us. And when the Death Eaters come, if they come, we will deal with that if we have to. But I’ll stay with you, Gerard, until the very end, and for now our world will consist of you, me, your bed, and the drapes around it. We are the world. You are my world,” he trails off, pressing a kiss to Gerard’s neck, and together they climb the stairs up to the boys’ dormitories. Everywhere in the castle is mayhem and war, but they cuddle up close to each other in Gerard’s bed and tell each other stories.

“When your hair falls into your eyes, you look so innocent and serene and pure I just can’t keep my eyes off of you,” Frank begins, and Gerard thinks that it’s a pretty good night after all.

~ ~ ~ ~

Harry and Draco walk together through the corridors on the first floor, hand in hand and heads held up high, without a care in the world that they’re at the centre of what could become an epic battle of love and hate, good and bad. Everywhere around them people are crying, screaming, hiding, but neither Lord Voldemort nor Lucius Malfoy are anywhere to be seen, and Draco and Harry don’t exactly feel safe but they’re certainly not afraid. They don’t want to hide, but neither do they want to fight, and they figure as long as they’re together at least no one can tear them apart. Draco’s book bag is swung over his shoulder, and neither of them knows why it felt so important to not leave it behind in the dorm. They walk together through the castle, out onto the courtyard, to look at the stars shining bright across the sky because there’s really nothing to do but wait.

“Ah,” a stone cold voice from behind them exclaims, “I knew you would come out at last.”

They spin quickly around and there is Voldemort, red eyes sparkling in the black night, and Lucius stands by his side, trembling wildly in fright and desperation.

“Draco,” he pleads softly, reaching out a shivering hand to his son, “I beg you, my son, come to your senses.”

Harry feels Draco tense by his side, and he squeezes Draco’s hand softly to let him know that he’s here. 

“I’m afraid,” Draco says loudly, as if sheer volume could hide the fright in his voice, “that I don’t agree with your way of seeing things.”

Lucius buries his face in his hands and his entire body shakes with stifled sobs, and Harry watches sadly because having a father like Lucius must be a million times worse than having no father at all. He takes a small step closer to Draco and rests his head lightly against his shoulder, and Draco squeezes his hand tightly in response.

“Draco, do you know what you’re doing?!” Lucius cries in despair, and Voldemort looks at him with disgust, as if any display of emotion is repulsive. “You’re destroying everything, your family, the future, everything…”

“Lucius,” Voldemort interrupts him sternly, and Lucius swallows his words quickly, “that is quite enough.” Lucius takes a step back, still sobbing and shivering, and Harry almost feels sorry for him. Almost.

“I thought you were going to follow in your father’s footsteps, Draco,” Voldemort turns to Draco with a hiss. “You have a legacy to fulfill, and we both know you make a good Death Eater, you’re just what I need.”

And of fucking course Harry can’t keep his mouth shut. “He is _not_ a Death Eater!” he shouts, holding his wand out in front of himself like a sword pointed at Voldemort, who only laughs coldly.

“It’s adorable how naïve you are, Harry Potter,” he smirks. 

“He’s not,” says Draco with darkness shining in his eyes, and Voldemort raises a non-existent eyebrow. “I’m not a Death Eater. Never have been, never will be. I’m standing by Harry and that’s final.”

“Draco,” Voldemort says slowly through clenched teeth, “this is a betrayal, and for that you must pay.”

Draco just yawns, to everyone’s surprise, grasping Harry’s hand tighter in his own. “This is boring. Leave us alone,” he says tiredly, completely unfazed, and Lucius by Voldemort’s side cringes. Harry suddenly realizes how unlike Draco’s father is to his usual composed and sleek self, with his hair all askew and soot and grime all over his clothes and skin, dark circles under his eyes from stress. 

“Son,” Lucius exclaims desperately, “our noble reputation has been besmirched and soiled all because of you, and if you don’t see sense and turn to us I will not have mercy, Draco!”

“Seriously,” Draco drawls, and Harry stands there not knowing what to do, still pointing his wand straight at Voldemort, “put down your wands and leave the fucking castle! I don’t know what your problem is but I don’t care, all I want you to do is leave me and my boyfriend the fuck alone!”, and Lucius and Harry gasp because who in their right mind would ever talk like that to Lord Voldemort?

“I don’t have time for this nonsense,” Voldemort scoffs impatiently. “You’ve had your chance. Lucius, your wand,” and suddenly Lucius looks frightened.

“Wh-what are you doing, master?” he stutters in horror, and Voldemort reaches out a hand for the wand.

“Your son must face the consequences for his actions,” he says coldly, and Harry shivers in fear of losing Draco.

“N-no, no, you can’t, you can’t do that, master, I beg you, please, my lord, he’s my son…” Lucius rambles, refusing to give away his wand, and Draco’s cold expression doesn’t falter as his father cowers down in fear, he keeps his stone face but his grip of Harry’s hand gets tighter and tighter by the second. Harry squeezes back, mortified.

“I have lost my wand, Lucius, and I require yours in the purpose of ending your son. _Give it to me_.”

“Tom,” a loud voice echoes from afar, drowning out Lucius’ whines, “I’m afraid I can’t let you just waltz into the school and create chaos, nor can I let you threaten some of my best students. They’re young and in love and you need to lay off their case, if I may say so.” And all four of them turn and watch as Dumbledore makes his way quickly to them, wand threateningly raised at them high in front of his chest. 

“Love is but an illusion. And I’m afraid you might not have a say in this,” Voldemort counters with a sneer. “Lucius,” he continues sternly, “your _wand_.” 

And Lucius reluctantly hands it over to Voldemort, but Dumbledore is quicker, shooting a fiery beam of red at Voldemort and Lucius before the wand has been passed over, and with no wand Voldemort doesn’t stand a chance. Not really sure of what’s going on, Harry and Draco watch in silence as Dumbledore does weird magic things and slowly drains Voldemort and Draco’s father of all their power and energy, and after what seems like an eternity finally with a twist of Dumbledore’s wand they are both forced back into their bat-like shapes, and they flee the scene together quickly. Dumbledore’s strong beam of red follows the two all the way into the horizon, and relieved Harry and Draco watch them leave.

There’s a silence that just can’t be broken as all three watch the sky where the enemies fly, and for a moment Harry doesn’t know what to say, what to do. He feels sad for Draco but still happy for him, and he doesn’t know how it would feel to be crushed by one’s father but he can imagine it’s heartbreaking. But Draco squeezes his hand again and it brings him back to reality, and he crashes into Draco’s arms.

“I knew you’d make it,” Harry whispers, and Dumbledore watches them with a smile as their lips meet in relief.

“You know I’d always choose you,” Draco assures him in a shaky voice, whispering against his lips and dropping his book bag to the ground, and soon tears fall from both their eyes as they realize how close to dying they both just were.

“Ah, young love,” Dumbledore sighs with a dreamy smile and lays a hand on each of their shoulders. “I once knew a boy, and we were quite like you two. I loved him above all and I think I would have gone to the end of the world with him if I had been given the chance.”

Draco and Harry look at each other with raised eyebrows, not quite knowing what to say, because eww, as if they’d like to know about Dumbledore’s love life. Just eww. 

“Er,” Harry says a little awkwardly with a blush starting to stain his cheeks, “how did that end?”

“Oh, he turned out to be evil, you see, so I was forced to imprison him for life,” Dumbledore explains cheerily. “But I will never forget the summer I had with Gellert, it was a wonderful time.”

Draco and Harry stare at him in disbelief.

“But enough about that,” Dumbledore exclaims and claps his hands together giddily, ”let’s all rejoice now that you two can be together! Do you want to come to my office to talk about it, or would you rather go find your friends?”

“Uhm,” say both of them simultaneously, glancing at each other for assurance.

“I think we’ll go to our dorm and chill,” Harry says tentatively, and Draco nods and grabs his bag again, eager to get away from their weird headmaster.

“Yes, it’s been quite a hard day,” he agrees.

“Of course, I can take a hint,” Dumbledore winks at them and it’s really just too fucking weird, and Dumbledore waves them off as they walk away quickly up into the castle again, because they really really want to get away from Dumbledore and his stories about how gay he was when he was young. Because it’s weird and they don’t want to hear it.

“What about your dad?” Harry asks Draco softly a few moments later when they climb the stairs to the seventh floor, because it’s the elephant in the room and eventually someone is going to have to bring it up. “Are you going to be okay?”

Draco squeezes his hand tightly and smiles sadly. “Well, I always knew he was scum. I guess I’ll have to get used to you being my family now,” he smiles and pecks Harry’s cheek, and Harry smiles and for some reason everything is fine even though they’ve faced the world’s most evil wizard and just barely gotten away alive. They climb through the hole in the wall behind the Fat Lady and feel like nothing is wrong.

Harry’s dorm is empty and they don’t really feel like celebrating their “victory” at the feast in the Great Hall with everybody else, so they close and lock the door and Draco, for some odd reason, feels at home. It’s not a completely unwelcome feeling.

“I have to go drop off my book bag at my dorm, but can I crash here tonight?” he asks and pecks Harry’s lips.

“I hate that you can’t be here all the time,” Harry sighs and nuzzles his face into Draco’s neck, taking deep breaths to memorize the scent of Draco’s cologne for when he’s gone. “Why couldn’t I have just let the Sorting Hat place me in Slytherin when it wanted to in the first place? Everything would have been so much easier and we’d have lived in the same dorm.”

“Well,” Draco smirks, “that would have been awesome and I’ve actually been thinking, what if I just dropped my bag off over here?”

Harry raises an eyebrow questioningly. “Then all your stuff would be here.”

“Well, what if all my stuff was here?” Draco smiles and rolls his eyes, because Harry seriously is dense.

“Then you’d be going back and forth all the time,” Harry replies in a tone that makes it clear that he thinks it’s the most stupid thing he’s ever heard, and Draco doesn’t know what to do with him, because clearly Harry needs things spelled out for him.

“What if we live in the same dorm, you stupid oaf, if you understand what I’m fucking saying?” and as realization hits Harry the smile on his face has never been brighter, and he nods slowly.

“Yes,” he grins, “hell yes, please move in with me!” And he jumps up into Draco’s arms and wraps his legs around his waist, clinging to his boyfriend tightly with a beam brighter than the sun and all in all, it has been a pretty good day.

“Do you think your roommates can handle having a Slytherin constantly in their midst?” Draco smirks into Harry’s hair.

“Do you think you can handle being around Gryffindors all the time?” Harry counters, and Draco laughs warmly.

“I think for you, I’ll manage.”

~ ~ ~ ~

A week later, everything has pretty much gone back to normal. The teachers act like nothing ever happened and keep loading the fifth years with so much homework they almost die, and Dumbledore is only ever seen at meals and then he’s always smiling.

Harry and Draco are as cute as can be and spend twenty four hours of the day glued together by their mouths, and Ray usually tries not to look at them when they’re around. (But however loveydovey they may be, that doesn’t mean Draco doesn’t still laugh when Snape is mean to Harry.)

Gerard’s leg is fine (because for once Frank’s attempt at magic actually worked, which leads them all into believing that he’s destined to become a Healer) but Gerard still likes to exaggerate the pain he’s (not) in, playing the role of Damsel in Distress. Frank doesn’t mind because so what if Gerard leans on him all the time when they’re walking, and so what if Frank spends more time rubbing Gerard’s feet now than he does sucking his cock, and so what if Frank has to carry Gerard’s books in between classes all the time. So what. They’re in love and Gerard didn’t get killed by Voldemort and since Gerard has always been a bit of a drama queen, Frank doesn’t care.

Hermione and Ginny continue to be arrogant bitches, especially to Ron, and they have a lot of sex in the prefects’ bathroom, which results in them being incredibly happy and cheerful all the time and also incredibly clean. Frank would like Gerard’s hair to be as clean as the girls’ is, and tries on several occasions to sneak into the prefects’ bathroom with him, because the regular showers are too boring and too icky to have sex in. But they never succeed in getting Hermione to tell them the password, so Gerard’s hair remains uncleaned. 

(Once they stay up all night on the fifth floor outside the door next to the statue of Boris the Bewildered, trying every possible password they can come up with, and at five in the morning Katie Bell and Angelina Johnson come giggling and blushing out of the bathroom in each other’s arms, hair in a mess and clothes buttoned in a haste. Frank and Gerard are both so shocked that the girls just had sex in the bathroom that they don’t even realize that the door is open right in front of them and that they could have just gone in there instead of staring at Katie and Angelina. Frank blames Gerard for this, even though there’s really no reason to.)

Pete spreads the news about Katie and Angelina as soon as he hears it from Gerard, and it earns him a bitch slap from one angry Quidditch Captain but afterwards when Angelina has stomped away he rubs his aching cheek and tells Mikey it was worth it. Mikey rolls his eyes and hates his life.

Ray has trouble sleeping because suddenly not only are Frank and Gerard having sex in their dorm, but so are Mikey and Pete (because Gerard has finally allowed Pete into the dorm) and Harry and Draco. This results in loads of late night studying and discussions with Neville, who is having similar problems and needs a shoulder to cry on about it. Ray’s grades improve and while that is great, he still misses his soft and warm bed at home where no one screams and shouts at night.

And Brendon and Ryan are still third years and still in Hufflepuff and they’re still stupid and still children, and they still act like they’re the centre of the universe but everyone else still just roll their eyes at them because Brendon and Ryan are still not and will never be the centre of anything.

Gerard thinks long and hard on why starting a band would be a bad idea, and his reasons consist of:

• Everyone would have to hear his shitty singing  
• People would start fangirling over Frankie and then Gerard would get jealous  
• McGonagall would kill them for making noise after curfew (because Gerard knows they are bound to do that)  
• There really isn’t a music scene at Hogwarts and everyone would laugh because they would be the only ones of their kind  
• Pete would never stop laughing

But when he walks in on Ray making sweet, sweet love to an acoustic guitar – and hello, why hasn’t anyone told him that Toro is a guitar god - in their dorm late at night he gives up and decides that talent like that of mr Ray Toro cannot be wasted. And all that can really be done is to start a music scene of his own, so the next day he sends out a mass text to Frank, Ray and Mikey in Transfiguration.

“ _yo boyz u r oficialy in my new awsom band. we will revolutoniz da msic scene at hogwarts n stuff n itll be awsom_ ”

Mikey replies with a “ _duh we hve no instrumnts how can we play ahole_ ” and of course McGonagall sees him send the text so he gets sent out, much to Gerard’s satisfaction. (He has actually thought of the issue with the instruments and he’s sure Flitwick has a few tricks up his sleeve.)

Frank sends him a text in all caps when McGonagall has turned her back on them, “ _AWSOM DUDE I’LL PLAY GITR ITLL B GREAT ROCK ON BB LUV U_ ”. Gerard thinks his enthusiasm is welcome if not a little over the top, but he blows Frank a kiss with a smile because thank god someone else thinks this is a good idea.

Ray keeps it mellow and only replies with a timid “ _ok_ ” and Gerard assumes he’s probably nervous. The poor kid isn’t exactly the rock star type of guy.

(When Pete hears about it from Mikey later and realizes he actually isn’t going to get to be in the band, he gasps and stomps off to spread a nasty rumor about Gerard having a kink for dressing up in drag. He also tries to hex Gerard later that day in Charms, but he misses and hits Flitwick instead. He gets detention, and it was so not worth it.) 

When it comes to naming the band later on, Gerard thinks he should have veto rights. Frank presents an impressively long list of suggestions one day during History of Magic, and while his ideas are great (‘Apple and the Bouncing Ferrets’, ‘The We Fuck Slytherins Project’, ‘Dumlydore and the Voldy-Visions’ and ‘W.A.N.D. S.’ – short for We All Neville’s Dick Suck - to name a few) Gerard doesn’t think they’re quite right. He doesn’t know if their recent escapades with Voldemort have anything to do with it, but for some reason nothing that doesn’t end with “… and the Near-Death Experience” feels right.

Mikey refuses to call the band anything other than The New London Fire, for some fucking reason, and Gerard _hates_ that name because it has nothing to do with _anything_ and they’re not even _in_ London, they’re in _Scotland_. But Mikey only raises his eyebrows and says nothing, and Gerard throws the veto card in his face. (The veto card that doesn’t even exist.) 

In the end, Frank votes for Gerard’s suggestion and Ray votes for no one, so Gerard wins and lets Frank decide what goes in front of “… and the Near-Death Experience”. Frank decides on “Snape’s Lover-Boy” and that effectively ends all their chances of ever getting to play a show at Hogwarts (at least not one for the entire school. They can still play in the Gryffindor common room), but Gerard doesn’t even care. He just wants to play.

It turns out that Flitwick really does have some music instruments stacked away in his office, and he happily lends them a guitar and a bass once they’ve told him what the band’s going to be called (and he loves the name but promises to keep it a secret), and since Ray already has a guitar they’re good to go. They set up a practice space in the Room of Requirement, and it’s fun and games and they actually put together a few songs that sound decent. They brag about their practice the next day at breakfast, and Pete sulks and doesn’t talk to either of them (except for Mikey) for two weeks. Gerard isn’t really bothered because he really can’t stand Pete.

When they have played a few sets in the Gryffindor common room, ‘Snape’s Lover-Boy and the Near Death Experience’ are the word on everybody’s lips, and while being recognized in the hallways is fun, they still think it’s kind of scary that everyone knows their names. Especially Ray. He takes to hiding in the girls’ lavatory in between classes so as to not get seen by anyone.

And Snape’s Lover-Boy soon gets to play in the Ravenclaw tower as well, and after that word spreads to Hufflepuff and they’re invited down there also, and after a few weeks they have to move the concerts to the Room of Requirement because their audience can’t all fit into one little common room. The Room sets up an epic stage with barricades and house lights, and it’s awesome and Gerard feels like a rock star. He gets through all of the boring Divination and History of Magic classes knowing that on every Saturday night, he gets to live for real. It’s a good feeling.

The teachers all realize that something is up and they send Filch to investigate what the students are so happy about on Saturday nights, but he doesn’t catch them. Gerard thinks Dumbledore probably knows what they’re up to and just lets them do it, and he kisses Frank on stage one night and thinks of their headmaster, thinks of how grateful he is that he lives at this school. Frank drops his guitar and knots a hand in Gerard’s hair, pressing closer as the crowd screams, and Gerard sucks happily on his tongue and can’t believe that this is his life. 

He breaks free after a beat and spins away in a love struck daze to sing a song about wolves, and he loves the world and everything in it. On the first row in the middle stand the Patil twins screaming, and Gerard reaches out a hand for them to take and it feels like everything just clicks when they grasp hands. He clings to them with all his heart and feels the music soar through him as he screams out the words, and he is home.

(All in all, life at Hogwarts has basically become exactly what Gerard thinks it should be, with the only exception that Snape is still around. But there’s not much anyone can do about that.)

**The End.**

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Bonus ending! (Did you really think it was over?)**

When Angelina goes to pick up the Quidditch balls from a broom closet by the pitch, for some reason Ray Toro has beat her there, looking flustered and nervous, his large mess of hair sticking out in all directions. She raises an eyebrow at him where he lies sprawled on a pile of dirty Quidditch robes, and he blushes wildly and pulls his crumpled shirt down over his stomach, and she can’t help but wonder why his clothes are a mess.

“What are you doing in here, Ray?” she wonders confusedly, because really he is the last person on earth she would imagine has any business to attend to in a Quidditch broom closet. Except for maybe Neville.

“Just…” he starts, “hiding from Slytherins. They wanted to put Bubotuber pus in my hair,” he says sheepishly, and okay, she can understand why someone would feel the need to avoid such treatment. She knows that there are some Slytherins that bully the poor thing quite a lot, and the closet is in fact a pretty good hiding space.

“Oh,” she says and reaches for the box with the balls on the floor. “Don’t worry, I promise if I see them I won’t tell them where you are,” she assures him with a smile, and he nods gratefully, but for some reason he won’t look her in the eye. She figures he probably is ashamed that the Slytherins are after him and she really feels sorry for him. 

“Thanks,” he says with a weird expression on his face, and she smiles though she thinks he’s kind of weird. She closes the door behind her on the way out.

Ray lets out a held in breath in relief when she’s gone, and under him from under a sweaty, stinky, muddy Quidditch robe Neville Longbottom sticks his head out with a blush quite similar to Ray’s, and hair all askew. They share a frightened glance and they’ve never been more scared in their lives.

“Do you think she knew I was in here?” says Neville breathlessly and kisses him, and Ray hopes to God that she didn’t, because theirs is a secret that absolutely not can get out.

(There’s a reason neither of them ever talk to Pete Wentz, Hogwarts’ own little Queen of Gossip.)

“Have you picked a safeword for today yet?” Ray asks through a smirk once they break apart, and he slides a finger slowly underneath the thick leather collar around Neville’s neck, feeling him shudder underneath his touch.

Neville bites down on his bottom lip with a grin, eyes all heavy and dark, and when he whispers “Bubotuber” Ray smiles.

**The End. (for real this time lol)**

**Author's Note:**

> Comment here or on the [masterpost> on my journal!](http://maybegasoline.livejournal.com/10156.html)


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